The Black Rose
by lks358
Summary: Christine Daae is a talented young opera singer who has just come into the spotlight.  Erik is her mysterious teacher, and all is not as it seems.  With the glittering backdrop of New York City, rumors fly as mysteries reveal themselves.  Modern day, E/C.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Yay! New phanfiction! So, I'm really excited about this story. It's different from Forever my Angel, but I've been having a lot of fun writing it. Enjoy the first chapter!**

"Newcomer to the opera scene, Christine Daaé, makes her debut tonight with a solo performance. Will this young starlet manage to shine among some of the best voices in the business?"

- NY Times

**Christine's POV**

The curtain closed, leaving me veiled in the darkness as the thunderous sounds of applause faded into the murmur of the audience's conversations. For a moment I just stood there, my hands shaking, as I began to comprehend that I had just made my debt – something that I had always dreamed of, something that had kept me going through even the darkest times of my life. I had just sung for an audience. A huge audience. And better yet, they didn't seem to hate me.

I made my way slowly through backstage towards the dressing room that I had been given, everyone stopping me to congratulate me and tell me how beautifully I had sung. "Christine!" I turned at the sound of my name as Meg Giry ram up to greet me, pulling me into a tight hug. "Christine, that was fantastic! You never told me you could sing like that! I mean, I knew you were good, but the way you sang tonight, that was just… something else."

I smiled at my best friend. "You really think it was good?"

"Christine, 'good' does not even begin to describe your voice. I'm sure the press is going to be all over it – a beautiful young opera star with an unearthly voice! You'll be famous!" I laughed at Meg's enthusiasm as she assumed a reporter-like stance. "So tell me, Miss Daaé," she said in her mock-reporter voice. "What's your secret?"

"Just a good teacher, I guess," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. It was more than that, but I knew he didn't like to be talked about.

"Who _is_ your teacher?" Meg asked, suddenly intrigued.

"He knew my father," I said. "He visited us once in a while when I was little, and he's taught me music ever since my father died." I hoped that Meg would drop the subject – I didn't want to have to admit that that was all I knew about my teacher.

"Really," Meg said, her voice making it clear that I had failed to disinterest her. "What's he like? How does he teach you? Is he handsome?"

"Meg!" I laughed.

"What? I'm just trying to prepare you. Now that you're practically a star, people are going to want to know these things. I mean, come on, a gorgeous young girl with an amazing voice coming out of nowhere, unwilling to comment on where she learned to sing like that… It's so mysterious and exciting!"

"I think you're overestimating the impact of my performance," I said. "No one will think twice about me."

"Christine, I saw the audience," Meg insisted. "I saw their faces. They did not look like they were just going to forget about you. This is not going to blow over. You're going to be famous!"

As we walked, a young, good-looking boy passed by us, winking at me. I looked away, blushing, while Meg giggled. We had reached my dressing room now, and I invited Meg in to sit with me. We both gasped when we saw, among a few other vases of flowers, a single red rose with a silky black ribbon tied in a bow around the stem laying on the vanity. The rose was fragrant and in full bloom, and Meg and I each pressed the soft petals to our noses to inhale the sweet scent.

"There's no note," Meg noticed. "I wonder who it's from…"

I knew who it was instinctively. "Him," I said, and when Meg looked at me, added, "My teacher."

Meg said nothing, and she looked to be deep in thought about something. She brushed away my question when I asked if something was wrong. She seemed about to say something when there was a knock at the door.

"Oh!" I gasped when I opened it. There stood the boy from earlier, the one who had winked at me, nearly hidden behind a vase of pink flowers.

"Raoul de Chagny," he introduced himself, holding out his hand to me while I wondered where on earth he even found a vase of flowers that big and gaudy. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

I was speechless for a moment, struck by his California-surfer-boy good looks and the fact that this boy actually wanted to talk to me. "Christine," I managed to say after a minute, placing my hand in his. He raised it to his lips and kissed it lightly, and I blushed furiously, to which he responded with a confidant, lopsided grin. "This is my friend, Meg Giry," I stammered, turning to Meg.

"I was just leaving," she said quickly. I scowled at her, making her teasing grin grow wider. "Have a nice night, Christine, see you at home," she called back as she hurried off, leaving Raoul and I alone in my dressing room.

I had never been good around boys. I was never confidant and outgoing like Meg. I had always just let her get all the attention, and now I was at a complete loss for what to do. I fiddled awkwardly with my hair while Raoul, comfortable as ever, put the vase of flowers on my vanity and proceeded to make himself at home as he sprawled out on the small sofa. "You were great tonight," he said. I was thankful that at least he seemed to know how to make small talk as I sat down across from him. His gaze travelled down to my hands. "Who's that from?"

I realized that I was still holding the rose, threading the ends of the black ribbon around my fingers. "No one," I said quickly.

Raoul shrugged at my reply and continued talking. "My parents and I are big supporters of the arts," he said, "so I'll be coming around here a lot." I nodded. The ease that he seemed to feel was definitely not contagious. "I'm actually just heading out to dinner," he continued. "Want to come? I could introduce you to a lot of people – I'm sure everyone will want to meet opera's new star."

Did he really just ask me to go to dinner with him? "I'm sorry, I really can't tonight…"

"Nonsense, of course you can," Raoul said as he stood to leave. "You should change. I'll be back to come pick you up in five minutes."

"No, Raoul wait…" I called out to him, but he had already left, closing the door behind him. The lights flickered, then went out, leaving only a very dim light in the room.

**Erik's POV**

I watched as the boy left, as confidant as ever at his ability to make girls fall at his feet. But not my Christine. She leaned back in her chair and sighed, running the tips of her fingers along the petals of the rose that I had left for her. "You did well, my dear," I said, throwing my voice so it sounded like a whisper in her ear. Upon hearing me, she sat up straighter, instantly alert. "I am pleased with you."

She smiled modestly. "Thank you, master." Then she added shyly, "I sang for you. I sang my very best." She paused, looking around the room from where she sat. "Do you think you could come out from… wherever you are?" she asked. "I feel like I'm talking to myself."

I chuckled and stepped out of the shadows. When she saw me she smiled nervously, just as she always did. "Do I frighten you, child?" I asked, amused.

Christine was silent for a moment. "No," she said. Then, "Well, sometimes." I chuckled again and, feeling more at ease, she continued. "You just… have a very intimidating presence to you, and I'm… I'm frightened that I might not please you."

I felt all amusement leave my expression. "You could never do anything to displease me, child," I said. "If you continue to sing for me, you will always please me."

She looked at me almost guiltily for a moment. "A boy was here earlier," she admitted. "He wanted me to go to dinner with him."

"I know."

"I told him no," she added hastily.

"I know."

She studied the floor for a minute before looking back up at me. "You won't leave me, master, will you?"

I stroked her hair gently and felt her relax at my touch. "No, my dear," I said as comfortingly as I could. "I won't leave you. I knew that you would have suitors, being such a talented, beautiful young woman –" I could sense her blushing at this, "—but you must remember my rules."

She nodded, her head bobbing up and down beneath my hand. "I'll remember."

"Come with me," I said, offering her my hand, secretly thrilled at the sensation of her warm, soft skin against my own. "There's something I want to show you." I led her to the mirror that took up almost a full wall of the dressing room. Sliding aside the glass, I lead her through to the other side. As she stepped through, the locked door began to rattle, and I could hear the boy calling out to her.

It's too late, I thought. Her mind is already mine.

**So there's the first chapter! Please let me know what you think, and I will get the next chapter up soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello everyone! Hope you're liking this story so far! Thanks so much to those who reviewed, and enjoy the chapter!**

"Following her debut performance, Christine Daaé – the young girl with the ethereal voice – was not seen out celebrating her success as expected, but rather strangely seemed to disappear…"

- NY Times

**Christine's POV**

The master led me through a seemingly endless maze of dark, long-abandoned corridors. I stumbled in the darkness and was grateful for the sureness with which he led me – in made me cling to his hand even tighter, and I was glad that either he didn't notice or didn't mind.

That's basically what I've always done – cling to him for sureness. I was too young to remember my mother when she died, and my father, who was all I had ever had, died when I was seven. My father was my best friend, my world, and when he died everything I had ever known collapsed. I didn't have any close relatives to take care of me or even comfort me, and even though Meg Giry and her mother took me in and became like family, I still felt lost, empty. Then one day the master came to our apartment. I remember him clearly; the white mask that covered the right side of his face stood out in my mind. Mrs. Giry had seemed surprised to see him, and she would never tell me how she knew him. They had gone into another room, out of earshot of Meg and me, and spoke in hushed tones for a long time. When they reemerged, Mrs. Giry told me in a wary but resigned tone that the master was going to teach me music, that he had promised my father that he would tutor me. The master, who stood silently by her side, looked at me, and I looked back, unafraid of this strange masked man who I had never met.

Since that day, his presence has been almost constant, and even when he is gone from me he is present in my mind. He would take me into the theatre almost every day, where he taught me how to use my voice, asking in return only that I remain devoted to him and his teaching, that I sing for him and him alone.

The master led me on through the dark corridors for a while longer before I could see a dim light in the distance. I clung to the master a little less, not needing him to guide my way as much, and eager to find out where he was taking me. Soon I was completely bathed in the soft light, absorbed in looking at the room around me. It was a small, elegant apartment. It could have been anywhere in the city, but the fact that there were no windows reminded me that at this point we were probably who-knows-how-many stories underground. Part of the room was sectioned off as a small kitchen and dining area, but the part that held my attention was the rest of the space. Sheet music was strewn across a beautiful piano and what I assumed was a desk (I couldn't quite see it under the music). Excepting a small sofa, there was no other furniture. Towards the back of the room, a sheer, blood-red curtain hid what I suspected was the bedroom.

"Do you… live here?" I breathed, still in awe of the simple, elegant beauty that surrounded me.

The master nodded and motioned for me to come in as he sat down at the piano. I had always loved listening to him play, though it was hard to convince him to take time away from our lessons for him to play the piano for me. He played a few pieces that I recognized, though he played them much better than I had ever heard. There was something about the way he played, as if he could feel intense emotion captured in every note and released it as his fingers hit the keys. Soon the music changed, flowing into darker, sensuous melodies that captivated me – I had never heard anything like it.

"It's beautiful," I said when the master stopped playing. "What is it?"

"It's the opera that I'm writing," he said, coming to sit by me on the sofa as he spoke. "You shall sing it once it's finished."

"You have too much confidence in my abilities. I could never sing something as complicated as that, and even if I could there's no way I could get that kind of emotion across. That was incredible."

"We will practice," he said simply. "You will sing it, my dear." I was about to protest, but was interrupted by a yawn. "You must be tired," the master said gently. "You've had a long night."

"I'm not all that tired," I insisted. "Besides, I want to stay here. I want to listen to you play some more." I yawned again.

In response he rolled his eyes at me, making me giggle. "I'll play some more for you tomorrow," he said. "But now you have no reason to stay awake when you're so clearly tired."

"You could tell me about my father," I said hopefully. The master was strict, but I knew he would not deny me something if I really wanted it.

He muttered something that sounded like "stubborn girl" and turned back to me, sighing. "Your father was one of the best men I've ever known," he began. "He was very kind, and he loved you more than life itself. Of course, he was the first to recognize your talent. He asked me if I would teach you, and I said I would teach you when you were willing to learn."

I watched his thoughtful expression for a minute. "What's your name?" I asked suddenly. "You must have told my father, but you've never told me."

"That's because it links me to a past that is no longer relevant."

I sighed. He always gave vague, unhelpful answers like that whenever I asked something about him. "But what is it?" I insisted.

I hadn't actually expected him to tell me – in all the years he had taught me, he had never told me anything about his past beyond that he had known my father – so I was surprised when I heard him mutter, so quietly that I barely heard it, "Erik."

"Erik," I repeated. "I like it. Is it alright if I call you Erik? I am an adult now, you know."

He nodded, seeming somewhat reluctant at first. "You may call me what you wish, as I have always told you."

I smiled and stifled another yawn as a curled up on the sofa. "Would you sing for me? Please?"

And so Erik began to sing to me, his voice soft and warm and familiar. I had always thought that his voice was the most beautiful thing in the world. He stroked my hair as he sang and, wrapped in his warm, soft words, I finally succumbed to sleep.

**Meg's POV**

"Have you seen Christine?" I turned, surprised to see Raoul, the boy from earlier.

"No, I haven't," I said apologetically. "Actually, I figured she would be with you." Raoul's face was unreadable. Clearly he wasn't used to girls playing hard-to-get with him. Not that it surprised me that girls usually fell at his feet. Christine must be crazy to disappear on him like this.

I began to turn away, thinking that Raoul would leave since I was no help to him, but he spoke again. "It was the strangest thing. Her dressing room door was locked, and I… I swear I could hear a man's voice from inside…"

I was about to reply that it was probably just her teacher when Mother appeared in the doorway. "Christine sends her apologies," she told Raoul. "She was feeling ill and can't make it tonight." Raoul seemed ready to question Mother, but she brushed him aside with a wave of her hand, and he hesitantly walked away. Mother's quick explanation seemed strange to me, too.

"Raoul said he heard a voice coming from inside the dressing room, and that the door was locked," I told her.

"That was her teacher," she replied simply, confirming my suspicions.

"Shouldn't we go get Christine?" I asked as Mother put on her coat to leave. "If she's sick, she can't just walk home on her own in the dark."

"She is being cared for, Meg." Mother would say no more on the subject.

**How do you like it? Please, please, please review and let me know what you think! **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello everyone! Could it be? Could I actually have time to update twice in one week? Yes indeed I do. I don't know if I'll be able to do this every week, but I had time to update today, so I thought I would. Once again, thanks to those who reviewed, and enjoy the chapter!**

"Not much is known about emerging opera starlet Christine Daaé, but this much can be said for her: she likes her privacy. Miss Daaé made no appearances after her successful performance and could not even be spotted leaving the theater. Gossips and romantics alike have already started circulating speculations of foul play and secret lovers, and Miss Daaé undoubtedly will soon have quite a reputation, whether deserved or not…"

- NY Times

**Erik's POV**

I held Christine for a long time, absorbed in watching her slow, even breathing. She was so peaceful and beautiful, and she felt so fragile in my arms. The small, frail child that I had started teaching had grown into a beautiful young woman of 18, full of life and innocence. She shouldn't trust me, but she did. And part of me couldn't help but feel bad for it; the rest of me rejoiced, urging me to take full advantage of that trust. I had never had anyone like Christine in my life, or for that matter, well… _anyone_. I suppose I had never really had _anyone_ in my life before Daaé and his young daughter came along.

As I had watched Christine grow, I had fallen in love with her voice – as beautiful as any of the music I created, but without my curse. Daaé didn't lie when he spoke to me of his daughter's talent. Her voice was so pure, and as I trained her she began to shine. All of the life was gone from her eyes after Daaé's death, and with music I brought it back. Now as this girl slept in my arms, I didn't know how I could ever let her go. How could I let her face the world that shunned me so cruelly? And yet that same world reached out for her, my creation, wanting to claim her perfection just as I did.

She stirred slightly in her sleep and I brushed her hair back from her face. No one else could have her; I couldn't allow it. She was mine, and she promised to sing for me and me alone.

Eventually I stood, careful not to disturb the sleeping girl I still held in my arms, and carried her to my room, laying her gently in my bed. Her long chocolate curls framed her perfect face, and her small body seemed almost lost amidst the sea of sheets and pillows. I sat beside her a while longer, stroking her hair and humming to her softly, all the while trying unsuccessfully not to dwell on the fact that this beautiful girl was _in my bed_. Before leaving her I placed a soft kiss to her forehead, the sensation of her soft skin against my lips almost too much for me to take.

Then I sat back down at my piano, letting my fingers release the soft, sensuous melodies that filled my mind.

**Christine's POV**

I awoke in an unfamiliar bed, taking a minute to survey my surroundings. I was lying in a sea of silky red sheets in the middle of a massive, ornate bed. There were no windows, and the room was decorated with dark, elegant furniture, so I assumed that I was still in Erik's apartment. My theory was quickly confirmed by the soft music that drifted into the room from the other side of the curtain.

I slid out of bed – it must have been Erik's bed, I realized, blushing a little at the thought of sleeping in a man's bed – and shivered as my bare feet hit the cold floor. I didn't want to disturb Erik, figuring that he was probably composing, so instead I walked into the bathroom silently and flipped on the light.

I sighed when I saw my reflection in the mirror – my hair was wild and tangled, my makeup was smeared, and I was still wearing my dress from last night's performance, only now it was wrinkled and twisted from having been slept in. I washed my face and combed my fingers through my hair, quickly giving up on untangling my curls with a frustrated huff. I looked slightly more presentable now, but even after straightening it out my dress looked wrinkled and ill-fitting.

Walking back into the bedroom, I was about to go out to Erik when I noticed the wardrobe that stood against one of the walls. I opened it and pulled out a plain white collared shirt and went back into the bathroom. After replacing my dress with the shirt, I examined myself in the mirror. The shirt came down to about the middle of my thighs – shorter than I was usually comfortable with, but Erik didn't think of me like that – and I rolled the too-long sleeves up to my elbows. Wearing Erik's shirt seemed like an incredibly intimate gesture, but he had already let me sleep in his bed, so I figured he wouldn't mind if I borrowed a shirt.

When I emerged from the bedroom I stood silently in the doorway for a moment, watching Erik play the beautiful melodies that I had heard all morning. He stopped playing when he noticed me; I couldn't read his expression. "Good morning," he said after a moment. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," I said, finding myself feeling somewhat shy under his gaze.

"That's good," Erik said after another moment of silence. His eyes never left me. It felt strange, the way he looked at me. It made me feel exposed, but not in a bad way. I was aware of every inch of skin that Erik's shirt left uncovered, and I was aware of the way his eyes lingered on my exposed thighs, and I was aware that my underwear showed through the shirt a little even though I hadn't notice before. But for some reason, I didn't feel uncomfortable. The air around us felt thick and electric, and though we were only frozen in silence for a brief moment, that moment seemed to stretch into eternity. I wanted to explore this vulnerable situation; I was curious.

I walked slowly towards Erik, watching as his eyes followed my every movement. As soon as I was near enough, he reached out for me until I stood just inches away from him, his hands firmly planted on my hips. I ran my fingers through his hair and across his face, gently caressing his masked cheek. I knew his face so well, I realized. It had become so familiar to me over the years, yet half of it was always hidden. What was beneath the mask?

Before I knew what I was doing, my fingers had pulled away the mask.

In the split second when he realized what I was doing, Erik's expression changed from unreadable but peaceful to one of horror and rage. The moment I saw his face, what struck me even more than the hideous deformity was the hurt that filled his eyes. Then in a flash, it was gone, leaving only anger.

"Damn you!" Erik shouted as he stood and roughly shoved me away from him. I fell to the floor, trembling, as he continued to yell. "Is this what you wanted to see?" He made sure that I was looking at the distorted, discolored flesh that made up the right side of his face. "Well, is it as you thought it would be? Can you even bear to look at me?" Erik was raving now, furious. "Do you dare to think of me? …This loathsome carcass who burns in hell while yearning for heaven, yearning for beauty…"

Erik turned away from me, and when he turned around again he had covered his face with his hand, and I was thankful that I no longer had to look at the disfigurement. He seemed ready to say more, but stopped when he saw me curled up pitifully on the floor, sobbing quietly from fear and from sorrow. "Oh, Christine," he sighed sadly.

Before that moment, Erik was safety, familiarity. Now I was lost – half of me wanted to run to him and be comforted and forget about this entirely, and half of me wanted to run away and never see him again. Instead I stood up and slowly took a few steps towards him, shakily reaching out to hand him his mask. He took it without a word and put it back on, then reached out to me to gentle wipe away my tears, looking at me as if deep in thought. I resisted my initial urge to recoil from him, still finding comfort in his touch. "You should go," he said finally.

He left me in my dressing room where I changed back into my own clothes, stuffing his shirt into my bag once I saw that he was already gone. When I left my dressing room, I found Mrs. Giry waiting to take me home.

**So, I have to say, I'm really having fun writing this story. I'm thinking that it will continue to follow the plot line from Phantom for at least a little while longer, but I do have some very fun things planned. So, if you're liking to story, please review, and even if you're not liking the story, please review. I'll get the next chapter up soon!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello again! I've been feeling rather productive, so I decided to update today. Thanks to so much to those who reviewed, as always! I love hearing what you think, and it really motivates me to write more. Enjoy the chapter!**

"Our reporters caught Christine Daaé leaving the theatre early this morning. She declined to answer any questions. Speculations abound as to the secrets that seem to surround this young woman. And thus, the mystery deepens."

- NY Times

**Meg's POV**

Around mid-morning Mother came home with a zombie-like Christine in tow. They stood by the door for a moment, Mother speaking to her quietly, too quietly for me to hear. "Go get some rest," she said after a minute, and Christine went to her room without another word and with a look on her face that made me wonder if she had heard a single thing that Mother had just said – she looked worlds away.

I waited until I heard the soft click of her door closing before I turned to Mother. "Was she really at the theatre all night?" I asked. No answer. I took that as a yes. "With… _him_?" Again, no answer.

I sighed. It's not like that man's existence was a secret or anything. Ok, maybe it was, but it's not like I didn't know about him. I remembered a man in a mask coming to the apartment once, after Christine came to live with us, and he and Mother talked for a long time. Mother said that he was here to teach Christine at her father's request, but she looked… I don't know… worried. Unsure. I had never found out anything more about him, even when I had asked Christine about him the night before.

"Mother, why won't you tell me anything?" I asked, growing frustrated. "Christine's practically my sister. Why can't I ever know any of what's going on?"

"You don't need to be involved in everything, Meg," Mother said. "And you certainly don't need to no anything. Sometimes it's better to just stay out of things that you don't need to be involved in."

"But Mother, if something's going on with Christine, then I do need to be involved in it. Is she safe? Mother, I know that something's wrong. I mean, Christine just disappears from inside her locked dressing room after Raoul said that he heard someone else inside. Then she comes home the next morning, looking completely catatonic! Mother, you can't just expect me to not notice, or not be worried about her –"

"Enough, Meg. You are too curious. There are some things that you just don't need to know."

I opened my mouth to protest, but one look at Mother told me that it would be useless. I'd just have to find out what I wanted to know from someone else. A while later, once Mother had left to run errands, I went over and gently knocked on Christine's door. "Come in," she said. When I walked in she was lying on her bed, starting up at the ceiling, looking only slightly less dazed than before.

"Hey," I said, sitting down on her bed. "Are you ok? What happened?"

She sat up and looked at me for a moment. "Meg, you're my best friend," she said. "I can tell you anything, right?" I nodded, and after a minute, she continued. "I was with him… my teacher…" she said, her voice so soft that I could barely hear her. "His name is Erik. I never knew that, never even thought to ask, but now I feel silly – of course he has a name."

"Christine, you were gone the whole night," I said, noticing that she was losing focus. "Did something happen?"

She shook her head. "No, nothing. Nothing like what you think. I just… slept. And then in the morning, I woke up and I thought about how I've known him for so long and didn't know anything about him. I didn't even know why he wore a mask over half his face, so I took it off…" Her voice trailed off and she got that far-away look again.

"Christine," I said, bringing her back to reality. She couldn't just leave it at that.

"I guess it wasn't really all that bad," she said. "His face… it was deformed pretty badly and it scared me, but… but he was so angry, and that scared me even more. And now… I don't know."

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to me, letting her rest her head on my shoulder. Now that I knew what had happened, I felt sorry for her.

"I'm scared he'll leave me, Meg," she said, "that he won't want to teach me anymore. I need him, I need his music. I don't want him to leave me, but I don't know if I want to see him. I guess I just want things to go back to normal, to forget about his face, to forget that this even happened…"

Now I felt just as confused as Christine, and I couldn't help but feel that this whole situation was really messed up. I could see the hold that this man, Erik, had over her. And now, I wanted more than ever to find out what was going on.

**Erik's POV**

The look on Christine's face still haunted my mind. That look of horror, the tears that filled her eyes… And what had I done? I yelled at her, shoved her away from me. Could I really be that much of a monster? The only person in the world that I had ever cared anything for, and now she hated me. For a while after she left, I couldn't even think straight. I just kept replaying that morning over and over in my mind. Why had she done it? Why did she want to know what I hid under my mask? And, now that she knew, she surely wouldn't want to continue her lessons with me. She probably never wanted to see me again; she wouldn't be able to bear the sight of me.

But she was mine. Whether or not she liked it, she was mine and I wan sot letting her go. I promised Daaé that I would teach her, and damn it, I was going to teach her. There was no doubt that she was incredibly gifted, and I refused to give up on her. And though I hated to admit it, even to myself, I didn't know if I _could_ let her go. I though back to the night before, how peaceful and beautiful she was, asleep in my arms. I thought of how she had looked that morning, coming up of my bedroom with her hair all tousled and wearing nothing but one of my shirts that barely covered her and, frankly, didn't really hide much. The thought of never seeing her again was unbearable.

So I would stay with her, even if she didn't want me to, even if she hated me. I sat down at my desk, filled with this new determination, and picked up a pen and some paper – I had a few notes to deliver. I wrote to the managers, informing them that it would be best for the theatre, and for them, if Christine continued o perform in lead roles. I told them that the theatre would undoubtedly enjoy great success as her career progressed, and for everyone's sake, I suggested that it progress quickly. _If these demands are not met,_ I wrote, _a disaster beyond your imagination will occur._ I snuck through the theatre, undetected, and left the note in the managers' office.

**So, I know this chapter is kind of short, but I promise that the next one makes up for it. Please, please, please tell me what you think, and I will get the next chapter up soon!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello! Where did my reviewers go for that last chapter? An extra special thanks to Thaovyphantran for reviewing, as you always do. Enjoy the chapter!**

"Everyone eagerly awaits Christine Daaé's next performance, scheduled for tonight. Rumor has it that she's already secured the lead role in the theatre's next opera, which is scheduled to start production in about a month…"

- NY Times

**Christine's POV**

Another performance had ended, and to an equal amount of applause as before. Once again I made my way back to my dressing room, although it was a slow process with so many people stopping me to tell me how well I did. When I had finally made it back I dropped onto the sofa and closed my eyes, completely exhausted. This day seemed to have gone on forever, and now at last it was over. Ever since this morning when I had taken off Erik's mask and he sent me away, I had felt… I don't know… empty. I was caught between fear of his face and of his temper, a strong feeling of loyalty to him, and the fear that now he would leave me forever, leaving me alone. Of course I would always have Meg and Mrs. Giry, but having Erik in my life was different. Erik was who I relied on more than anyone since my father had died; it was as if he was part of my soul, my very essence, and in losing him I would also lose part of myself. I hated feeling so dependent.

I was startled suddenly from my thoughts by a knock on the door. "Come in," I said wearily, straightening up where I lay across the sofa. I had to suppress a groan when Raoul entered. He seemed nice enough, but the last thing I felt like doing tonight was going out with hm. Or explaining why I disappeared last night.

"Hey, Christine," he said as he strolled in, giving me his most charming grin. "Mrs. Giry said that you weren't feeling well last night. Are you feeling better?"

"Listen, Raoul, I really just –"

"Good, because I'd like to take you to dinner tonight." Either Raoul had misunderstood my answer, or my attempt to answer, anyway, or he just wasn't listening and had heard what he wanted to hear.

I sighed inwardly. What choice did I have? "Alright. Just give me a couple minutes to change," I said.

"Sounds great. Oh, and dress nice." And with that, he disappeared back out into the hall.

I stood and tiredly replaced my floor-length performance dress with a shorter, flowy purple one, kicking off my heels to replace them with ones that were only slightly more comfortable. All I wanted was a hot bath, my sweat pants, and my bed. But I knew that I should try to make the best of things. A cute guy was taking me to dinner, what was so bad about that? I checked my hair and makeup one more time before going out to meet Raoul. As I closed the door, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt when I glanced at the mirror that Erik had taken me through the night before. But he had abandoned me, too, hadn't he? He had left me. But just before the door shut, I caught sight of a red rose tied with a black ribbon sitting, overlooked, on my vanity.

**Erik's POV**

As I watched Christine leave with that boy, a million different emotions filled me, and not the least of which was the feeling that she had betrayed me. But I knew that I was the reason she'd left. If it weren't for my hideous face… There were far too many ways I could have ended that sentence. If it weren't for my hideous face, my mother might have loved me and I wouldn't have spent my childhood being abused in travelling freak shows that were only semi-legal. If it weren't for my hideous face, I wouldn't be hated and mocked by society, forced to live where their cruel eyes could not see me. And if it weren't for my hideous face, perhaps Christine wouldn't hate me. She wouldn't be out with that fop, probably having a good laugh about me right now.

But part of me still wanted to hope that she didn't hate me. I had seen her glance back at the mirror before leaving. And when she saw the rose that I had left her, she almost looked sad.

Even if Christine didn't hate me entirely, though, there was still the problem of that boy. Raoul. I cursed the name already. Everything about him screamed 'over-privileged', from the confidant, almost cocky way he carried himself, to his apparent inability to hear anything he didn't want to hear. I could see the way that he looked at Christine – he viewed her as a prize to be won. Her disinterest was his challenge; the reward for overcoming it was increased fame and fortune, a social status that elevated as hers did.

I clenched my hands into fists; I was furious at the thought of such a boy wooing Christine away from me. Raoul de Chagny had just made a very dangerous enemy.

**Christine's POV**

My date with Raoul went by surprisingly easily. He took me to a fancy restaurant, and after a few minutes conversation began to flow ore easily than it had before. Raoul talked about his family and their many investments, most of which supported the arts. I mostly just sat and listened, contributing here and there when I could. He asked little about me, which I was fine with – I was in no mood to answer questions about myself, which I hated doing even in the best of moods.

It was after 11 when he dropped me off at Mrs. Giry's apartment, parking his car along the sidewalk in front of the building. "Are you sure you don't want me to walk you to the door?" he asked.

"I'll be fine," I said. "Thanks again for dinner. I had a nice time."

"So did I," he said as I got out of the care. "We'll have to do this again."

I smiled at him as he pulled away from the curb and drove off. I turned to go into the building, then, and made it about two steps before realizing that I had left my bag with my keys and my cell phone back in my dressing room. Of course. I stood for a moment, weighing my options. The theatre was only several blocks away and I walked there all of the time during the day. Meg and Mrs. Giry were probably either still out or already asleep. My decision made, I turned and started walking back towards the theatre.

The streets were dark and quiet, and I seemed to be the only one out, or at least the only one walking this way to the theatre at this time of night. After a while, I got the creepy feeling that I was being followed. I looked back and felt a cold shiver run down my spine as I saw several figures walking slightly behind me, their faces indistinguishable in the darkness. I kept walking, picking up my pace a bit. They did, too, though, and soon they were hollering to me, yelling vulgar things as they caught up to me. Still I ignored them and walked on, looking straight ahead of me. Only two more blocks and I would be at the theatre. But soon they were right behind me. I could tell they were drunk – even from this distance I could smell alcohol. One of them put his hand on me and I spun around to face them, brushing his hand off. Three boys, maybe a little older than me, and all of them much bigger than me.

"Leave me alone," I said warningly, stepping away from them.

"Aw, c'mon," slurred the one who had put his hand on me. "We won't bite, now, will we boys?" They began to advance towards me again.

"If you so much as lay a finger on her…" I turned at the familiar voice to see Erik, looking more frightening than I had ever seen him before. "…I promise you, I will kill you. And I will not be merciful enough to do it quickly."

Erik looked every bit some sort of menacing, dark angel, dressed all in black and blending in with the night except for his white mask. The three boys looked threatened, but not enough to be scared off. "Oh yeah?" challenged the one who seemed to be the leader. "With what?"

Erik pulled aside his coat to reveal a handgun strapped to his side. "But as I said, I'm not feeling merciful. Shooting you would kill you far too quickly."

Still trying to act tough, the leader put his arm around me, ignoring me as I squirmed free. "What are you, her father? We were just gettin' to know each other. And who are you, some circus freak in a mask, to –"

In a flash Erik had a firm grip on the boy's neck, lifting him off the ground as the boy struggled to get free, gasping for air. "If any of you value your life at all, and, granted, they aren't worth much," Erik hissed. "Then I suggest you get out of my sight. Now."

Erik dropped the boy, and the three ran off into the darkness. I sank to the ground, watching Erik as he stood, breathing heavily, muttering that he should have killed all of them. Rage still burned bright in his eyes. After a moment, he turned to me. I was still afraid, but of what, I didn't know. "Christine," he said gently. Without a word I ran into his arms, burying my face in his chest as I cried. He pulled me tightly to him, and for the moment I could just forget about what had happened that morning and let him comfort me.

**So, that's the chapter! Please, please review! If I get enough reviews, I can promise at least one more chapter this week, maybe even two. Just a little incentive. **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello again everyone! Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! They really motivate me to write, which is why I'm updating again so soon. Enjoy the chapter!**

"Christine Daaé was spotted out with Raoul de Chagny after her performance last night, sparking quite an inundation of rumors concerning a budding romance between the two. In our opinion, Miss Daaé would do well to continue being seen with de Chagny, whose family is well-known for their old money and generous support of the arts – perhaps these sightings will help dispel the rumors of foul-play that currently surround Miss Daaé and her promising career…"

- NY Times

**Erik's POV**

I walked Christine to the darkened, empty theatre and led her to her dressing room to get her bag. Neither of us spoke a word. The lights in her dressing room were off, but enough light from the streetlights came in through the window that both of us could see fine. I watched as Christine picked up her bag from where she had left it sitting, but instead of immediately turning to leave as I had expected her to, she sank tiredly down on the sofa, looking up at me.

"Thank you, Erik," she said softly, the sincerity in her voice stirring something inside of me. "How did you know where I was?"

"I didn't. I just saw that you had left your bag here and figured that you'd come back to get it. But I had a bad feeling about it, so I went to look for you."

"Thank you," she repeated. A moment passed in silence before she spoke again. "I need to apologize," she said. "I shouldn't have taken off your mask like I did without even asking, and I shouldn't have reacted the way I did."

Even though I had been furious with her when she took off my mask, I felt none of that anger as I looked at her now – small and frightened, curled up on the sofa. "You have every right to be scared of my face," I said, my voice colder than I had meant for it to sound. "My own mother hated me because of my monstrous face. Why shouldn't you?" Christine sat speechlessly, looking at me as if trying to figure out what I wanted her to say to this.

"I don't hate you," she said finally. "I don't see how I ever really could. You just frightened me when you yelled at me. But I don't hate you, and even though I would understand if you did, I don't want you to leave me."

Her voice quivered as she said this, and the sadness that filled her words made even my cold heart break. I slowly moved to sit beside her on the sofa and said, "I won't leave you unless you want me to, child."

"Thank you, Erik," she sighed, leaning into my side and closing her eyes.

"…You must be exhausted," I said gently after a minute, daring to run my fingers through her silky curls. "I can walk you home if you'd like."

"I would like that," she said, stifling a yawn as she stood. "Thank you, Erik."

We walked down the dark streets in silence, and I was lost in my thoughts. How could Christine have seen my face and still want me to tutor her? How could she not shrink away from me in fear at the very sight of me? She was too good, too forgiving, too perfect. I didn't deserve to have the companionship of someone half as good as her. But what was worse, what truly made me a monster, was that I wanted more. I knew that I didn't just want her companionship, her pity. I wanted her to be devoted to me and only me. I wanted her to need me like I needed her, though I never would have admitted to needing anyone. But Christine was the bright spot in my world, the only part of my life that was beautiful, the only being that I had ever really cared anything for. I wanted her to love me, even though I knew she never would. That was why I was a monster. I knew that for her to love me would be impossible, and that I would only be able to give her a life of darkness and misery, a lifetime of staring into this hideous face. I would happily take the light that surrounded her and overwhelm it with the darkness that surrounded me, smothering it. I actually _wanted_ her to have that life.

"Erik?" Christine said, snapping me from my thoughts. "We're here."

"I'll make sure you get in alright," I told her.

She gave me a small smile. "Thank you, Erik. For everything." It looked like she wanted to say more, but she quickly turned away and walked into the building. I watched her go, cursing my feelings for her, before fading back into the darkness.

**Christine's POV**

As soon as I had made it to my room, I dropped my bag on the floor, kicked off my shoes, and crawled into bed, not caring enough to do anything else. Today had seemed endless and I was beyond exhausted, emotionally and physically. I couldn't even think about everything that had happened – I only wanted to sleep. I slept deeply and dreamlessly, waking again when late-morning sunlight shone through my window.

I climbed out of bed reluctantly, not exactly tired but not really wanting to be awake just yet. Feeling a bit lazy, I replaced my dress from the previous night with sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt, and shuffled out of my room. Meg sat on the sofa, an empty plate beside her and a magazine in her lap. Mrs. Giry must have already left for the day.

"Well, good morning, sleepyhead," Meg teased when she looked up and saw me. "You must have been out late – you slept even later than me! How was you date?"

Date? Oh, right. I had almost forgotten, what with everything else that had happened. Which reminded me, I had told Raoul that I'd text or call him before I went to bed… "It was good," I said, sitting down next to Meg. "We had a good time."

"Really?" Meg asked excitedly, putting down her magazine and shifting so she was facing me. "Give me all the details."

"There's not really that much to tell. The restaurant we went to was really nice and he told me about his family, and then he drove me home… Meg, what time is it?"

"Um," she said, glancing at her cell phone. "A little after 10:30. Why?"

I sprang up from my place on the sofa, cursing under my breath. "I'm going to be late for my lesson."

I changed as quickly as I could – Erik was always dressed nicely and soon after he had started giving me lessons I realized that I felt particularly sloppy when I showed up in my sweats, not that he would have ever said anything about it. I rushed out the door and towards the theatre without even bothering to grab something to eat. As I hurried down the street I checked my phone and saw that I had four messages, all from Raoul.

_Hey_, said the first one. _Are you still up?_

_ You didn't forget to text me, did you?_ said the next one with a wink-y face next to the words. Yes, actually, I _did_ forget to text you, I thought.

_Christine? Hello?_ said the third message.

_ I guess you already went to bed, or your phone's off or something_, said the last one. _Anyway, I just wanted to say that I had a great time with you, and I'd love to see you again soon. Call me tomorrow, and I'll meet you after your performance tomorrow night._

By now I had reached the theatre, and I rushed to my dressing room, closing the door behind me. Erik was waiting for me. "You're late," he said simply.

"I'm sorry," I panted. "Forgive me. I just overslept, and –"

"Christine, we'd best not keep our lesson waiting any longer," Erik interrupted, his voice stern but not harsh. It was enough to silence me. Without another word I went about warming up my voice, singing as Erik told me to, just as I always did.

**So, I feel like I just need to explain a few quick things here. If you've read my last story, you'll remember that Raoul was kind of evil (or maybe really evil), but in this story he's not going to be like that. Don't worry, he still won't be a particularly likable character just because I don't like him, but he won't be evil, and right now he needs to be kind of nice to develop a relationship between him and Christine. But for all me fellow Raoul-haters, don't worry, it won't stay this way. Also, I promise that there is a lot of stuff coming for Erik and Christine. Right now I'm just trying to work on developing the dynamics of their current relationship, because I feel like Christine doesn't exactly love him, but she is dependent on him and feels like she needs him. So I feel like to really fall in love with Erik, Christine needs to become a little stronger and a little more independent first. But I promise you, I love Erik/Christine even more than I dislike Raoul (which is a lot), so they will be together. Please excuse this incredibly long author's note, and please review! It motivates me so much, and I love hearing suggestions!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hello again! As always, thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews, they motivate me so much. So, I'm leaving soon for a camping trip and there's a chance that I won't be able to update again for a week, but if you all keep reviewing I'll work extra hard to get one more chapter up before I go. Enjoy!**

"Mysterious goings-on, reported by some at the theatre, are beginning to cause a stir. Some report finding things missing or out of place; some tell of strange happenings around the theatre and even say that notes have been found that are seemingly from no one; but some, who undoubtedly have either the most inventive imaginations or the keenest eyes, have gone so far as to claim having seen a strange man in the farthest recesses of the theatre, shrouded by shadows, and have taken to calling this spectral man the phantom of the opera…"

- NY Times

**Meg's POV**

Things seemed to go back to normal for a while, or at least as far as I could tell at the time. There were no more mysterious disappearances from behind locked dressing room doors, or anything else that might have led me to believe that there was more going on than what I knew about. After every performance, Raoul showed up at Christine's dressing room, offering to take her out somewhere, and she accepted most of the time.

Meanwhile, thought, rumors were spreading like wildfire about the theatre being haunted. At first I thought that it was just the ballet girls having seen a few too many horror movies and trying to frighten each other and themselves. But then stories started to circulate about a strange man lurking around in the shadows of the theatre. Even these stories I wouldn't have believed if they had come only from the ballet girls. But one of the stagehands, Joseph Buquet, swore up and down that he had seen the man himself, and told anyone who was willing to listen.

"He kept himself cloaked in darkness," Buquet would say. "I couldn't make out his face, only his form. But his very presence was enough to give me chills, as sinister as it was. I knew he was there, just as sure as I know you're here in front of me now, but in the blink of an eye he was gone. Vanished."

I still couldn't shake the feeling that things weren't as they seemed. Whenever I asked Mother what she thought of this so-called phantom, all she would say was that there was no ghost, that everything was fine and that I needed to mind my own business. But I couldn't. Not until things made sense, not until I found out what was going on.

**Christine's POV**

It seemed like everyone in the theatre's cast was gathered waiting for the announcement of the next production's cast. We all stood outside the managers' office, and when the door opened Andre and Firmin came out, stone-faced, and simply posted a list on the wall before retreating back into the office. Murmurs began to ripple through the crowd as people read the list, sounding excited, confused, and even upset. When I managed to shove my way to the front, I quickly scanned the names and froze, shocked. That was my name next to the main role, and not even as an understudy, but as the primary performer! And apparently I wasn't the only one who was surprised.

Behind me I could hear Carlotta yelling that she should be in that role, loudly insulting me and my voice, and even "whoever the hell taught her to sing so terribly." When I tried to walk past her to go to my dressing room, she caught me by the arm. "This is not your role," she hissed in her thick accent, venom in her voice. "You do not have the voice for it, and certainly not the skill. Believe me, as soon as I speak to the managers you'll be back in the chorus where you belong."

I shoved past her, feeling angry and not caring to listen to her any longer. I had tried my best to ignore her, but you can't just stop hearing whenever you want to. I was still in my uncomfortable stage clothes and just wanted to change and forget all the things Carlotta was saying about me. I barely noticed when I ran into Raoul, and would've just kept walking if he hadn't caught me. "Christine," he said. "Hey, I was hoping I'd catch up to you." His hands were on my hips and he was really close to me. I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable at the unexpected nearness.

"I don't really feel much like going out tonight, Raoul," I said. "I'd rather just have a quiet night tonight."

Raoul smiled a little, running his hands along my waist and up my sides. "I know exactly what you mean," he breathed, trailing his lips down my neck. No, clearly he didn't know what I meant. He had kissed me after our last date when he was dropping me off, and I admit that it was nice, but if he thought that one kiss immediately led to –

"Raoul, I just can't tonight, I don't feel well," I lied, gently pushing him away from me to put some space between us and walking off without another word, completely flustered. Was that all he wanted from me? I didn't want to think that he was just using me, but part of me had always wondered why a boy like him would be interested in me. Could I really just have been stupid enough to not see the possibility until now?

By the time I reached my dressing room, I was so frustrated that I was close to tears. I slammed the door shut and started tugging at the zipper at the back of my dress, cursing when it wouldn't budge. "What's wrong, my dear?" I jumped slightly when I heard the familiar voice – I hadn't even noticed that Erik was there – and I dropped my hands to my sides. Erik was quickly beside me as I fought back tears.

"I don't know, Erik," I sniffled, fighting the urge to run straight into the arms of the man who seemed to be the only constant in my life. "It's just been a bad night and I don't know what to do and now I can't even get this stupid dress unzipped…" my words started to run together as the spilled out faster and faster, tears spilling out with them. I thought for sure that Erik would just tell me that I was overreacting and needed to calm down. But he didn't.

"It will be alright, Christine," Erik said softly, wiping away my tears with his thumb. "You may not feel like it now, but you have a strong spirit. You'll be alright no matter what happens."

I sniffed, smiling a little. "Thank you, Erik," I said, hugging him before I could stop myself. "I don't know what I'd do without you. This might sound a little weird," I said as I pulled away from him. "But could you help me with my dress real quick? I think the zipper's caught."

Erik looked at me for a moment, unsure. But we were friends, and it's not like he thought of me any other way. There was nothing wrong with him helping me, right? He gave his consent and I turned my back to him, feeling his hands trail along my bare shoulders as he brushed aside my hair. I shivered, suddenly feeling hyper-aware of him, of every movement, every breath. My heart quickened, and I wondered how I could feel like this. Something about Erik just made me feel… alive.

Then in one smooth motion, Erik undid the zipper. I held the front of the dress up so that only my back was exposed, but there was still something about the moment that felt very intimate. The air felt strangely thick and charged, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Erik lightly ran his fingers along my back and I sighed at the sensation, relaxing at his touch. But then he did something that I hadn't expected him to: I felt his lips trailing across my shoulders, just barely touching my skin. And it really wasn't bad-feeling. It actually felt really good. If I had stopped to think about it then, I would have been really confused. Erik was my teacher, my master. Did he really find me attractive like that?

But I couldn't think at the moment, my mind was so clouded. So instead I leaned into him, pressing his lips more solidly to my skin. He wrapped his arms around my waist as his lips travelled to my neck. It didn't feel at all like when Raoul had kissed me. Raoul's kisses had been urgent, lustful. But Erik's… His kisses were filled with passion and longing, desire that was at once both pure and dark. It was intoxicating, and I found myself aching for more. I turned around in his arms so that I was facing him and pressed my body to his as he kissed my throat, and he sighed deeply.

I ran my fingers through his dark hair as his lips moved up my neck and to my jaw. "Erik," I whispered so breathlessly that it was more of a gasp. I held to him tightly, not sure if I could stand on my own with my head swimming the way it was. I wanted to kiss him, to know what his lips felt like against my own.

I was so wrapped up that I almost didn't hear the knock at the door. "Christine?" Meg called. "Are you ready to go?"

Erik froze the instant he heard Meg's voice and stepped away from me, looking like he had only just now realized what he was doing. "Just a minute," I called breathlessly to Meg, barely remembering to hold up the front of my unzipped dress now that I wasn't pressed against Erik. "Erik," I said softly so Meg wouldn't hear.

But when I turned to where he had stood just a moment before, he was gone, leaving me more helplessly confused than before.

**Please, please, please tell me what you think! If I get lots of reviews, I'll make sure to get another chapter up before I leave for camping **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hello! I'm back again, thanks to all those wonderful reviews for the last chapter, so thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! Enjoy that chapter!**

"With production of a new opera beginning, many of us were expecting to hear that the lead role will be played by Miss Daaé. Instead, the theatre's managers announced that they will be sticking with diva Carlotta Gudicelli, who has been the lead soprano for the last five seasons…"

- NY Times

**Meg's POV**

To say that Carlotta was not pleased with hearing that the lead had been given to Christine would have been the understatement of the year. I was on my way to Christine's dressing room when I heard the yelling in the managers' office. Actually, if I had been on the other side of the theatre I probably would have heard the yelling. I recognized Carlotta's voice immediately – even if we hadn't grown used to the sound of her yelling at the chorus and ballet girls, I would have recognized her voice because her shrieking sounded remarkably similar to her singing. I normally was not an eavesdropper, and had I known the tangled web that I was getting myself into I might have thought twice about trying to gain more information. But I was curious, and so I approached the office and listened at the door, remaining unnoticed by the room's occupants.

"…sings like a damned toad! What would possess you to give that scrawny little girl the lead? I am the lead soprano here, and I will not be upstaged by some obscure, untalented chorus girl! I demand that you give me that role, or I swear I will walk!"

"B-but you don't understand," the managers stammered together. They were clearly flustered, which surprised me – Andre and Firmin were usually fairly level-headed and firm in their decisions.

"No, you don't understand!" Carlotta interrupted. "Either she goes, or I do. I will not stay here and be treated this way. Any other theatre company would be glad to have me sing for them, and as a well-known name in the business I am sure to attract bigger audiences than that Daaé girl."

"Go, then." I was surprised to hear Mother's clear, firm voice. What did she have to do with this? She was the ballet mistress – none of this should affect her. "Leave and do not return. It will give the Phantom less to worry about."

"That's what this is about?" Carlotta shrieked furiously, her voice rising at least another octave. "You all are afraid of upsetting a figment of the simple-minded ballet girls' imaginations?"

"I can assure you that the Ghost is no figment," Mother said sternly. "He is as real as any of us, as is the danger of so recklessly disregarding his demands. You've read the note yourselves. 'A disaster beyond your imagination' is not an empty threat."

"And what would you know about this Phantom?" Carlotta demanded.

"I am simply the messenger," Mother replied with an air of calm indifference. "I know no more than anyone else, only that his threats are very real." If any doubts remained in my mind about the existence of the Opera Ghost, they had just been shattered into oblivion. I knew Mother well enough to know when to take her seriously, and she was dead serious. But how did she seem to know more than everyone else about the Ghost?

"Fine," Carlotta said coldly. "You can let yourselves be controlled by someone who may or may not actually exist, but I will have no part in it. I'm leaving."

I shrank away from the door as I heard Carlotta take a step forward, but she made it no farther before Andre and Firmin quickly exclaimed that the part was hers if she would stayed, that no Ghost could make their decisions for them. It was silent for a moment, but she gave her consent. Andre and Firmin sounded relieved, but when Mother spoke her voice was grim and cold as ice. "The Phantom knows," she said. "You have just made a horrible mistake in going against him, and I fear that it will cost us all dearly." I quickly backed away as I heard her clipped footsteps approaching the door, making it look like I was just passing the office when she stepped out. "Ah, Meg," she said, trying to conceal her agitation. "I'm just getting ready to go home. Will you go fetch Christine and see if she's ready to leave? I don't like the thought of either of you walking home alone at night."

I nodded and walked down the hall to Christine's dressing room, not even having time to think about what I had just heard. "Christine?" I called out as I knocked lightly on the door. "Are you ready to go?"

There was a pause before I heard her respond, "Just a minute." When she came out of the room a few moments later, she looked a little flushed and distracted.

"Christine, do you feel ok?" I asked, concerned. She really just didn't seem normal.

"I'm fine," she answered, sounding a little breathless. "I think I just need to get some sleep."

"Christine, if there was something going on, you'd tell me about it, right?"

Christine hesitated. "Of course I would, Meg," she said. "I tell you everything."

But for the first time in our friendship, I didn't believe her.

**Erik's POV**

Andre and Firmin should have known that I would be listening. But then again, if they were bright enough to realize that I was probably listening, they would have been bright enough to know not to go against my demands. No, they were too concerned with how their well-known stars would mean more guaranteed ticket sales, more money. Of course Giry was there, as she always was, to remind them of the impending disaster that their actions would provoke, but still they managed to ignore both superstition and their sense of self-preservation in favor of the good profit that their leading soprano promised to make them. Very well, gentlemen. Should these demands be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur.

As soon as I had had enough of those dolts, I had rushed back to Christine's dressing room, where I stood frozen in the shadows for a moment when she stormed in, tears in her eyes. I knew that something else had happened, that this went beyond problems with casting – Christine was strong, though she didn't know her own strength, and Carlotta simply being a bitch wouldn't upset her so much. I had revealed myself quickly, nearly overcome with the need to comfort the poor girl. Looking back on it I was still amazed by the look of relief that came over her when she saw me, and I was still filled with the same guilt as I was in that moment for allowing sweet, innocent Christine to trust me so entirely. Yet I couldn't keep away from her. When she cried I wiped away her tears and promised that everything would be alright. I just knew that this was that boy's doing, and I was strongly tempted to march out of the room and strangle him on the spot. I believe that the only reason I didn't was because I wanted to be there for Christine even more.

She seemed comforted by my words, and the small smile that she gave me lit up her features. Figuring that she probably felt better and no longer wanted to be in my company, I was about to go when she abruptly said, "This might sound a little weird, but could you help me with my dress? I think the zipper's caught."

Her question caught me off guard and rendered me speechless for a moment. It seemed like such an intimate, seductive act, but she asked so innocently. Did she really think that I cared only for her voice, that I didn't notice her body? But what was I supposed to say? I was her teacher, after all, and she trusted me, so if it wasn't a big deal for her that was all that mattered. And like the monster that I was, I went along with it.

As I moved her soft curls, brushing them over one shoulder, I let my fingers slide across her warm, smooth skin. I knew that it was dangerous to allow myself to even begin to indulge in my desires, but at the moment I couldn't bring myself to care enough to stop. I could feel her body's reaction to me, her muscles relaxing and a soft sight escaping her lips. I unzipped the dress without a problem, knowing that it was most likely only Christine's own frustration that had hindered her. As soon as the dress was unzipped and her bare back exposed to me, though, I knew that I had overestimated my strength and my self-control – the mere sight sent my blood racing, my entire body aching with longing. God, I was a monster.

When I couldn't resist the urge to touch her any longer, I ran my fingers across her bare skin. But it wasn't enough. Fire coursed through my veins as I pressed my lips to the silky skin of her shoulder, only half-aware of what I was doing as I memorized the taste of her flesh. That was when I realized that there was nothing that could keep me from doing exactly what I wanted to this girl, not even myself. My sense of decency, my will to do good was simply not strong enough. I became more daring when she turned in my arms to press her body to mine, kissing her neck and jaw. She gasped my name and wove her fingers into my hair, and for a beautiful moment, I felt as normal as any other man, able to kiss my lover without her shying away from me out of fear of my face. I was lost in my desire for Christine, in my longing to feel her lips against mine, to experience the only semblance of love that I had ever had in my life. There was nothing in the world except for me and the beautiful, perfect girl I held in my arms and, lost in this passion, I moved to press my lips to hers.

A knock at the door abruptly shattered the illusion and I pulled back to see Christine flushed and breathing heavily, her eyes alight with passion. Then the full weight of what I had been about to do hit me. The moment she looked away, I disappeared into the passageway behind the mirror.

I hated myself. I hated myself for wanting so much more from my dear Christine than what she would ever willing give me, and I hated myself for losing control. How could I kiss Christine? What right did I have to such beauty, what right did I have to any semblance of love or happiness? I was a monster and deserved to be damned for this. I knew that no matter what I did, she would never love me, but I longed for her anyway, and what was worse was that I had just acted on those longings, caring nothing for what Christine wanted, or rather _who_ she wanted.

I slowly sank to the floor as this realization hit me. I was truly a monster, and I deserved every bit of hatred that was ever expressed towards me.

**All together now: Aw, poor Erik! So now you know what was going on in his mind that entire time. Don't worry, I promise that this story won't always be so angst-ridden. And now I'm off for camping! Please review, and I'll get the next chapter up as soon as I can!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hello again! Sorry, I know it's been a week since I updated last, and I hate to do this again, but I'll be a camp all of next week. I'll try to get another chapter up before I leave, but this week's kinda crammed, since it's music camp and I haven't really practiced the stuff for my audition… oops. But, like I said, I will try my best to update. And, as usual, a huge thanks to all of my phantastic reviewers! Enjoy the chapter!**

"With a new opera premiering tonight, the entire theatre is sure to be abuzz with preparations. Some are way about the production, though, with rumors spreading about how our malignant 'Phantom' is not pleased. In our opinion, if that's the only thing to cause worry, then the production should be in good shape tonight…"

- NY Times

**Christine's POV**

I had a bad feeling before the show. I couldn't explain it, but something just felt wrong. It was very unsettling, to say the least. I looked out at the bustling city from my dressing room window to try and calm myself, watching as the sky grew dark and the familiar city grew more boisterously bright. Maybe I wouldn't have felt so worried if my life had been at least somewhat normal at that point. But Erik had remained aloof and indifferent towards me for the extent of rehearsals, seeming distracted and acting only as my tutor; had it been anyone else, I might have said that he was avoiding me.

I saw less of Raoul, too, now, than I had before rehearsals. He would only occasionally take me out on dates, instead using our time together to try to kiss me or have his hands on me. And while I missed Erik's company terribly, I also found myself missing my dates with Raoul. Or maybe it was just because I found them preferable to my time with him now, since I still was unsure about how I felt.

Sighing, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror quickly before going to take my place with the chorus, saying a silent prayer that the performance would go smoothly.

It really didn't bother me that I had briefly been given the lead role only to have Carlotta quickly snatch it away. I wasn't so vain to the think that I deserved nothing less or that the opera would be better if I had the lead. In my time at the theatre I had come to expect nothing less from Carlotta than complete and utter contempt, so I tried not to let that bother me. And I was still an understudy, which I found some comfort in, even though I knew that Carlotta would never give me the chance to perform. What concerned me, though, were the rumors I had heard going around about the Opera Ghost wanting me to perform and even threatening to ruin the show since I was not given the part. I didn't believe in the Opera Ghost for a second, but I did believe in Erik, and I desperately hoped that he was not involved in this.

When the curtain rose and the first notes sung and no disaster occurred, I started to hope that maybe everyone was overreacting and that nothing would go wrong. Maybe we were all just worried over nothing. Carlotta made her grand entrance, and still nothing went wrong. I could have laughed at myself for being so worried before. But then we found the disaster that we were waiting for: Carlotta croaked. Literally. Like a toad. It wasn't even like her voice just cracked. Everyone fell into a shocked silence for a moment, and when she attempted to recover and sing again, she only croaked. A slight buzz was already breaking out in the audience when we heard it – that dark, menacing laughter that came from nowhere and echoed around the room. But that haunting, musical voice was not new to me. I could have recognized it anywhere, and it sent shivers down my spine.

The audience was mumbling nervous conversations as the stage came close to chaos. Carlotta had run off stage in hysterics, and none of the performers knew what to do. The managers quickly appeared onstage, both white-faced and terrified. "Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize," Firmin announced, trying to appear calm as he attempted to settle the audience down. "The performance will, um, continue in ten minutes, with Miss Christine Daaé filling in for Carlotta Gudicelli." At this I glanced out at the audience, who seemed placated. I caught sight of Raoul, who was watching me with a confused expression, before Mrs. Giry pulled me backstage.

She rushed me down the hall to my dressing room, and all the way there was a blur of murmurs and whispers wondering what had happened and where that chilling laugh had come from. But I knew. Even before Mrs. Giry handed me the red rose with a black ribbon tied around the stem and told me that it was to wish me luck, I knew that it was Erik. I also knew that he would not be satisfied so easily.

**Meg's POV**

I watched as Mother rushed off with Christine to help get her into her costume, and I couldn't help but feel that tonight's misfortunes were not over yet. I had heard Mother say that the Phantom had promised a disaster beyond imagination, and Carlotta losing her voice so Christine would have to take over hardly seemed to live up to the threat.

"In the meantime," Andre was saying. "We would like to give you the ballet from act three of tonight's opera." At this announcement the stage once again burst into a frenzy, people running in every direction as they tried to set up the scene.

I took my place in line with the other dancers and almost instinctively looked up into the dark catwalks above the stage. The music began and I tried to focus on the complicated steps, but I just couldn't. I swore that I could see movement up in the catwalks, and it didn't seem normal. I was dancing out of step – I only knew because I kept bumping into the other dancers, who shot me dirty looks – but the movement in the darkness above the stage captivated me. And since I was watching, I was the first to scream when the body dropped down. The limp thing trembled sickeningly as the rope around its neck caught.

The audience was standing up and screaming as we all watched in horror the body of Joseph Buquet hang by the neck above the stage.

**So, short chapter, I know, and I'm sorry. This chapter and the next will continue to follow the plot of the show, but then I'm taking it in a completely different direction (and by taking it in a completely different direction, I mean that I have a vague idea of what I'm doing for the next couple chapters and absolutely no idea what will happen after that). I will try my best to get at least another chapter up before I leave, and you know what motivates me more than anything else – reviews!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello! I'm so sorry that I didn't get another chapter up before I left for camp, real life just decided to take over all of my time and it made me sad. But now I'm back with a new chapter! Enjoy!**

"Death, while common in operas, is very uncommon to come across when actually at the opera. But unfortunately, that is the very tragedy that befell us, and though we are assured that it was suicide, there were plenty of whispers circulating about the Opera Ghost's revenge…"

- NY Times

**Christine's POV**

My blood turned cold when I heard the screaming. I was on my way to the stage when the commotion started, and I rushed to the stage to see what had happened. When I saw the body hanging there, I felt sick to my stomach and allowed myself to indulge in the instinct to flee. My mind was a blur of confusion and I hardly noticed where I was going. All I could think was, how could he do it? How could Erik kill a man so callously? It was no accident, and it was no suicide. This was Erik's revenge; there was no doubt in my mind about that.

"Christine!" I didn't even notice Raoul until he grabbed my arm. "Christine, come with me," he urged, pulling me along behind him before I even had a chance to respond.

Raoul took me up flight after flight of stairs. He said nothing, but he didn't have to – seeing that man die had obviously shaken him, and fear was apparent in his eyes. We stopped when we reached the roof of the building and walked out into the frigid night where the first flakes of heavy, wet snow were starting to fall. "Raoul, why are we here?" I asked, wrapping my arms around myself to keep warm. "I really should be getting back, they'll be wondering where – "

"A man just _died_, Christine," Raoul snapped. "I couldn't take it there anymore, and I hate that you work in such an environment. And people were saying that it was the Opera Ghost who killed him. Are they trying to make light of his death, or are they really so empty-headed that they truly think –" Raoul stopped when he saw my grave expression. "God, you believe it, too, don't you?" he exclaimed, not bothering to hide his disgust.

"It's real, Raoul," I said quietly, suddenly feeling meek under his intense stare. "The danger is very real, and you need to be careful."

"Oh really, Christine? All that nonsense is real? How exactly would you know?"

I cast my eyes down shamefully. "I-I've seen him." As soon as I uttered the words I felt a cold sense of dread come over me, as if I had just made a terrible mistake in revealing this information. I wrapped my arms tighter around my trembling form, but it did nothing for the coldness I felt inside of me. I didn't know why, but I felt with absolute certainty that I couldn't say anything more to Raoul about Erik.

Raoul scoffed at me. "Christine, you also said that you have an Angel of Music who teaches you how to sing. Forgive me if I'm hesitant to believe you." I remained silent. I had forgotten that I had mentioned that to him.

_Christine. Christine._ I could swear that I heard that beautiful, unearthly voice calling my name, and I was mildly horrified to find that I was still soothed by it, drawn to it. And even though the fact that he murdered a man was still fresh in my mind, I couldn't bring myself to hate Erik. I could sense his presence; feel him all around me, warm and familiar. And I hated myself for falling back into his trap.

"Christine," Raoul said, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. "I think you need to get away for a while. You know, take a vacation. Taking a break from the theatre and all this stress might do you good."

"Maybe it would," I said softly, speaking mostly to myself.

"Great, then it's settled. My parents have a house on the beach in California where they're staying until New Years, but if we went after that we could have it all to ourselves," Raoul said, holding me tighter as he made the suggestion.

Before I could protest this plan his lips were covering mine. But Erik's presence still weighed heavily in my mind, and I felt cold with fear as Raoul kissed me. "Raoul, I have to go," I said, pulling away from him. "They're probably looking for me." Really, they probably weren't, and the performance was the last thing on my mind, but I knew Raoul would accept the excuse.

Raoul reluctantly released me, and as we walked back inside, I realized that I was adding to my already muddled mix of emotions a strong sense of betrayal.

**Erik's POV**

_Christine. Christine. _I had followed her and her boy up to the rooftop, screams and cries still echoing below us. It truly was regrettable that I had had to kill that man. That was part of my past that I was honestly trying to put behind me in another desperate attempt to make myself seem like a decent person in Christine's eyes. But I would not stand by while my orders were blatantly ignored. The managers had to learn their lesson – no one defies the Phantom. And besides, that Buquet fellow was coming dangerously close to knowing too much. Had he come to know much more, he might have had the power to expose me, to take my Christine away from me. I couldn't let that happen. So really, I had no other choice.

But now, watching Christine and that fop, it was almost laughable to think that I had considered Buquet a threat. The real threat was right in front of me, actively trying to take my Christine away from me.

What that fop failed to see, though, was that Christine was still under my control. Whether she realized it or not, there was a connection between us far too strong for any pretty, rich young boy to break. It was as if our very souls were entwined. Even now I could tell that she sensed my presence. She might loathe me, fear me, but she couldn't deny that she needed me, just as I needed her. That was a need that I no longer intended to deny myself, I realized as I burned with an agonizing jealousy as I watched the boy kiss her. _I want Christine, I need her. She is my world, my heart and soul, and without her I will surely die. She will come to see this, and she will love me._

I stepped out of the shadows only after the two had gone back inside, chuckling darkly to myself as I realized what I now had to do. The fop was right – Christine did deserve a break from the theatre, from all the stress of performing. Perhaps it _would_ be best if she went away for a while…

**And this is where I stop following the plotline of the show entirely. Get ready for lots of excitement to follow, and please please please review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello again! Where did my reviewers go? Come back! Erik and Christine miss hearing what you think! Big thanks to Alexanne for reviewing (you win!), and enjoy the chapter – things are getting exciting!**

"With the closing of their latest, successful opera, the theatre is hosting a well-deserved celebration on New Years Eve – a dazzling masquerade ball…"

- NY Times

**Christine's POV**

I smoothed out the skirt of my elaborate gown as I stepped out of Raoul's car, running my hands over the folds of lace and silky pink fabric. I was adjusting my mask as Raoul stepped into view, looking quite handsome in his tuxedo. He had refused to dress up for the ball, as if such childish things were beneath him. He had even objected to my dressing up (because apparently no one wears costumes to masquerade balls), but when I had refused to budge on the issue, he eventually agreed to allow me to dress up as long as he chose what I wore. When I reluctantly agreed to his terms, he dragged me all over the city to the type of high-end stores and boutiques where Meg and I used to sit outside of and make fun of all the snobby rich people who went in.

And so I ended up dressed like this. To Raoul's credit, I saw now that this _is_ how most of the really important guests were dressed. The little cream-colored mask I wore shone and glittered with pearls and crystals and little pink roses, but it seemed understated next to the dress, which not only was too gaudy for my taste, but also too tight in the bodice and far, far too low cut. But Raoul liked it, I reminded myself, and he is my boyfriend. I should want to wear things that he likes to see me in. And it really was a beautiful dress. I just wasn't used to such fancy things.

"You look great," Raoul said, putting his arm around my waist as we walked up the steps of the theatre. I noticed with more than a little embarrassment that his eyes were not exactly on my face as he said this. That was something else that I hadn't gotten used to – how obviously he showed his affections and desires. Really, we hadn't been together for that long, and I still wasn't entirely comfortable with the relationship.

The fact that we were leaving for his beach house together after the ball tonight wasn't helping me feel any more comfortable. Not only was I still unsure about my feelings for him, but if I was completely honest with myself, Erik still occupied my thoughts. After the night that the opera opened, I had heard nothing from him. He was never at out lessons, and after a while I simply stopped going, knowing that he would not be there. Mrs. Giry always handed me a red rose with a black ribbon tied around the stem after every performance, and I knew without her telling me who they were from, but Erik was never there. I knew that he wasn't _gone_ gone, but it worried me that I hadn't seen him in such a long time.

Raoul and I hurried inside the theatre out of the unbearably cold night, and were quickly greeted by Meg and Mrs. Giry.

"Christine, you look beautiful!" Meg gushed. "That dress is just perfect for you!" She leaned closer to me and said more softly, "I saw that all your bags are ready to go at home." I smiled but said nothing. Meg was clearly more enthusiastic about the whole thing than I was. "So, are you excited for your vacation?" she probed after not getting the response she wanted out of me.

"I'm sure it will be nice," I answered noncommittally, glancing over at Raoul who was still speaking politely with Mrs. Giry.

"Christine, I think it's supposed to be a little more than nice, and I think that common social rules dictate that you should be a bit more excited about vacationing on the beach with your hot, wealthy boyfriend," Meg said flatly.

I rolled my eyes. "I know, Meg. I guess I just have commitment issues or something. I still don't feel entirely sure about the whole thing."

Meg gave me an affectionate smile. "Stop worrying so much. Just have fun. And then come home and tell me all about it," she said teasingly, making me laugh.

We parted and Raoul took my hand, leading me to the dance floor. The minutes ticked by in swirls of color and music, in swishes of elaborately beaded ball gowns. When the clock struck midnight, cheers rang out and people reached for glasses of champagne to toast with. Raoul held me in his arms to kiss me, his lips barely hovering over mine when a terrible hush fell over the room that made us both look up.

The final stroke of the clock rang out, the lingering echo fading away to leave us in complete silence. All eyes were on the ominous figure in red that stood at the top of the grand staircase, his cold eyes inspecting us from behind the skeleton mask he wore.

If this had been the olden days when women were all delicate, I'm sure I would have fainted. I was drowning in emotions that I couldn't even begin to decipher. I felt Raoul leave my side, whispering something to me that I didn't hear, as Erik began to approach me. No one dared to try to stop him, or even to move. His every step seemed dominating, threatening, and I felt fear well up in me, fear that vanished as soon as I heard that familiar voice.

"Christine," he called out gently. His voice was more melodious, more enticing than I remembered, and a wave of relief washed over me at hearing it after being parted for so long. "Christine, come to me. Return to your teacher. You have much still to learn. Leave all this behind. Come to me, my Christine."

My thoughts were blurred, my mind unable to focus, unable to recognize that anything but that voice existed. I was consumed with him. I began to drift towards him, completely unaware that I was walking. My lips moved to silently form one word: _Erik_. He reached out and took my hand, bringing me closer to him. I vaguely heard Meg calling my name, but she sounded so distant. And why did she sound so frantic? It was only Erik, he would never hurt me. I felt warm velvet against my cheek as I rested my head on his chest. I was so tired. I was tired of everything that was going on, tired of the world. I faintly heard Erik whisper, "You belong to me."

And then in a whirl of noise and darkness, we were falling.

**Meg's POV**

Raoul shouldn't have left her side to go fetch security. He left her, and she went to Erik as if in a trance when he called to her. I frantically looked to Mother, but she looked on stoically, keeping a firm hand on my shoulder. "Christine!" I cried out. "Christine!" She didn't even seem to hear me. I watched in horror as Erik took Christine and held her gently, lovingly even. Raoul was returning with several guards, who were shouting orders at Erik. He gave the men no notice, even when their guns were aimed at him.

He whispered something to Christine and shot a fiery glance in Raoul's direction, and then just as one of the guards shot, he and Christine vanished.

Everyone was in a panic now, and there were cries of terror and confusion. "Mother! Mother, what happened? What's going on? Where are they?" I cried, desperately clutching to her sleeve like a frightened child.

Mother turned and looked at me gravely. "I do not know."

**Dun dun dun! Lots of excitement to come! I should have time to update again this week, so I'll work hard on that. In the meantime, you know what gets me wanting to write more? Reviews! So please let me know what you think, and if you have ideas or suggestions I would love to hear them!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews, I absolutely loved reading them! Unfortunately, I won't be able to update again until next week, but hopefully all the excitement I have planned for the story will make up for the wait. Enjoy the chapter!**

"A night of celebration at the theatre turned into a night of tragedy when budding star Christine Daaé was kidnapped, vanishing out from under the eyes of several armed security guards and a ballroom full of witnesses. No explanation has been offered, and for a while it was hoped that the whole thing was an elaborate stunt to promote a new opera, but it has been made clear that that is not the case. So far, there is no trace of Miss Daaé or her kidnapper…"

- NY Times

**Christine's POV**

The bitingly cold night air was the first thing I became aware of as my senses returned. Erik had a firm grip on my wrist and I was stumbling along as he led me, his steps so quick that I almost had to run to keep up with him. "Erik," I said breathlessly, my voice sounding weak and dazed.

Erik slowed for a moment and glanced back at me, then apparently deciding that I was not to be trusted to walk on my own anymore, lifted me into his arms and carried me with ease, quickening his step. "Erik," I repeated, panic starting to seep into my voice, my mind racing. Something didn't seem right; Erik moved with determination and purpose, but he looked almost guilty. "Erik, what's going on? What are you doing?"

"You must be quiet, Christine. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves."

The deadly calm in his voice silenced me, but in no way reassured me as we came to a sleek black car that was nearly invisible in the darkness. Erik opened the passenger side door and placed me inside so quickly that his actions were almost rough. A second later he appeared in the driver's seat, and then the city was flying by us as we raced down side streets and alleyways. "Where are you taking me?" I asked quietly, comprehension beginning to dawn on me. No answer came, but I knew he had heard me. My fear and anger were mixing inside of me. Why wouldn't he tell me anything? I desperately hoped that this was not what I was beginning to think it was, and I was scared and confused while Erik remained completely indifferent. "Dammit, Erik, tell me what's going on!"

"I'm taking you away for a while, my dear," Erik replied simply.

Taking me away? He was… kidnapping me? "Erik, pull over. I want out of this car. I want to go home."

"I'm taking you home. Haven't you wondered where I've been all this time? I've been preparing your new home for your arrival, and that's where we're going now."

"Erik, stop, please, you're scaring me," I begged softly, on the verge of tears.

Erik sighed, looking almost sad for the briefest of moments. "I can't."

"Why are you doing this, Erik? You're taking me away from the only family I have left." My trembling voice was barely audible now, tears gliding silently down my cheeks.

"You have me, Christine," Erik said quietly. "You'll always have me." He kept his gaze on the road ahead, the city gradually slipping away behind us. "I'm taking you away for a while so you can focus on your music," he continued after a moment. "You've become distracted and you're not learning as much as you should. And I know that you're capable of much more."

"And by distractions, you mean Raoul," I said flatly, not a hint of questioning in my voice. My anger was beginning to rise again, but I said nothing more when Erik didn't reply."

"What it is that distracts you is no longer relevant," Erik said finally. I said nothing. I didn't want to speak to the man who I had trusted. I trusted him, that is, until he killed a man and kidnapped me. Escape plans were already formulating in my mind. If I could just call Mrs. Giry… Damn, I didn't have my cell phone. I watched as the scenery flew past my window, the buildings becoming smaller and fewer. Already I had no idea where we were – I recognized nothing, so there was no hope of finding my own way back…

I needed to calm down. I wouldn't be able to think straight unless I calmed down. My breaths slowed; I allowed my body to relax into the black leather seat of the car. There was nothing I could do about this now. Maybe later I could talk to Erik, make him see that this was wrong and he would take me home. After all, this was still just Erik. I knew I couldn't let myself be afraid of him, or at least I couldn't let him see that I was afraid. He did look quite frightening right now, glaring straight ahead, his jaw clenched, and gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. But it was still Erik. He was the same Erik that I had always known, the Erik who had taught me to sing so beautifully and who I had very nearly kissed before all of this madness started happening…

No, I couldn't let myself think like that. Erik had killed, and now he had kidnapped me! He might have been the same man, but I was certain that something dangerous inside of him had snapped to drive him to such extremes.

The headlights of oncoming traffic briefly illuminated the inside of our car, and something shimmering on Erik's sleeve caught my attention – it looked wet. I looked closer and gasped when I saw the still-expanding dark stain on the red velvet, coming from a wound near his shoulder. "Erik, you're hurt," I said, unable to suppress the concern I felt. "You're bleeding!"

"That idiot guard was rather careless," Erik muttered bitterly, "risking your life to try and take a shot at me. Judging by his poor aim, he could have easily hit you by mistake."

"You were shot?" I gasped. I vaguely remembered hearing a loud burst of noise, but I did not remember Erik reacting to it… at all. "Erik, we need to go to a hospital!"

"I'm fine," Erik said calmly, almost indifferently. "It's not the first time I've been shot, and it won't be the last. Certainly isn't the worst I've had – the bullet barely grazed me. We can take care of it when we get where we're going."

I couldn't believe that Erik was acting like getting shot was a common everyday occurrence to be dealt with as easily as a scraped knee, and for a moment I didn't know what to say. If he didn't want to go to a hospital, fine, but all that blood was worrying me. Without a word I tore off a piece of my skirt and leaned over to him, gently bandaging his arm with it. As I sat back in my seat, his expression was unreadable.

"Try to get some rest, my dear," he said at last. His voice was soft and gentle, much more like the Erik I knew. "We still have a way to go, and I'm sure you're tired."

Erik was right – my eyes were heavy as I sank back into the seat. The cold glass of the window wasn't exactly comfortable when I rested my head on it, but I was too tired to care. When I closed my eyes I could almost pretend that this was a normal situation, that we were just normal people going on an ordinary drive. But I couldn't completely forget the situation that we were in. Erik had kidnapped me and I still had no idea where we were going, with only a vague idea of why we were going there. In the back of my mind, I knew that I should stay awake, that sleeping made me too vulnerable in a situation like this. But then Erik began to hum, a soft tune that I recognized as the same song he had sung to me all that time ago on that night he took me through the mirror of my dressing room.

And so I drifted into a dreamless sleep, Erik's haunting melody still lingering in my mind.

**Erik's POV**

I felt a stab of guilt as I watched Christine sleep, so sweet and innocent. She hated me. If she didn't before, she certainly did now. I still desperately hoped that she would come to see why I had to do this. Of course I told her that it was for her music, but that was only a relatively small part of my motivation. I was keeping her from the world, keeping her from those who would steal her away from me. I needed her, I needed to have her all to myself. Perhaps one day she would see that I did this because I love her.

My precious Christine; the one light in my dark life. Even when she hated me, she had the kindness to worry for me. I had been shocked when she so carefully bandaged my arm, moved by her unfailing compassion. How could she still care? I had taken her away from everything she had ever known. Why wouldn't she want me to suffer for it? Lord knows that people have wanted me to suffer with far less reason for it than Christine now had.

We were almost there now, to the property I had acquired some time ago but rarely ever even visited. Of course, I had made sure that Christine would have everything she needed to be comfortable there – clothes, books, music… everything except devices that would allow her to contact anyone. I knew how stubborn she could be, and if she wanted to get away she would try to do so relentlessly the moment I unlocked the car doors. But she was mine, now, and I intended to keep it that way. The stars were fading as the sky began to lighten, and with each passing mile we drifted farther and farther away from the world that wanted to take her. There was no chance of anyone finding us here – the area was nearly unpopulated with the nearest town miles away, and not even Giry knew about my home here.

The grand structure of the house was just appearing through the trees, its impressive architecture looking even more threatening and unnatural by the way the dim early-morning sun hit it, casting eerie-looking shadows. I pulled up to the front of the house and turned off the engine, but made no move to get out of the car, instead watching Christine's sleeping form. I ached to touch her, to hold her, but I quickly reminded myself that the last thing she would want would be to wake in the arms of the repulsive masked maniac who kidnapped her. Knowing this tore me apart inside, and had I believed that I might actually have been shown some mercy for once in my life, I would have prayed that my Christine might one day forgive me for this. And watching her, curled up and fast asleep, no trace of anger or fear on her angelic face, I could imagine a day when she would forgive me, when she would see what she means to me. I sighed as the memory of the feel of her skin against my lips came rushing back to me. But all dreams had to end, and that's all that this was – a dream. A nice thought, but one with no real substance to it, no hope of it ever becoming true.

"Christine," I said gently as she began to stir, not daring to touch her. "Wake up, my dear. We've arrived."

**As I'm sure you can imagine, I have lots and lots of fun stuff planned for this! I will update again as soon as a possibly can, and until then, please review!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hello, everyone, I'm back! Thank you so, so, so much for the wonderful reviews! This chapter would probably not be up right now if I didn't have your reviews to read and motivate me to just sit down and write. Hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

"Christine…" I stirred as Erik's melodious voice roused me from sleep. "Wake up, my dear. We've arrived."

I opened my eyes reluctantly as last night's events slowly came back to me. I looked out my window, curious as to where my kidnapper had taken me, and gasped when I saw the incredible stone structure that towered before me. The architecture was so intricate, so stunning… Had it been much bigger, it would have easily passed for some sort of palace. Did Erik live here? Was this really to be my new… No, I couldn't think of this place as home. I couldn't let myself forget why I was here.

I looked over at Erik, who sat watching my expression intently. "What do you think?" he asked me.

"It's… breath-taking," I said honestly. But I didn't want to think about it; I didn't want to like the place that was, for all intents and purposes, my prison. "Erik, we need to take care of your arm," I reminded him, glad to have changed the subject.

Erik calmly led me from the car, keeping a hand on my arm as if he was afraid that I might try to run. But one look around us had already told me that running would be useless – the trees around us were dense and everything looked the same to me, and I knew Erik well enough to know that there were likely no traces of civilization for miles around.

My eyes widened as Erik led me inside. The interior of the house was even more beautiful than the exterior – stunningly elegant and seeming to radiate the feeling of power. Erik took me through the main hall and up a massive marble staircase to what I quickly concluded was my room. The room was inviting and filled with the sunlight that streamed in through the large windows and gauzy white curtains. The only furniture consisted of a canopy bed, a small writing desk and stool, and a little settee sitting by a fireplace, all made out of exquisitely carved wood and giving the room an old fashioned feel. The room's two other doors led to an ornate bathroom and a huge closet filled with more fine clothes than I had ever seen before in my life, but what held my attention was the wall covered from floor to ceiling with shelves of books.

"I _do_ want you to be happy here, Christine," Erik said softly, watching me as I stared at the room around me. "I know you probably don't think so, but it's true."

I just nodded, unsure of what I should say. In my heart I knew that he wanted me to feel safe and comfortable here with him, but I refused to let my guard down. I didn't want to be weak; I didn't want to be vulnerable to him. I had to give myself something to focus on until Erik left me alone to think. "Is there a first aid kit in the bathroom?" I mumbled, walking towards the door so that Erik's hand slid off of my shoulder where it had come to rest.

Erik stood in the bathroom doorway watching me go through the cabinets, looking for anything I could use to clean and bandage the wound. "I can take care of this myself, it's not as big of a deal as you're making it," Erik protested when I forced him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. "You're overreacting."

"Erik, you were _shot_," I said, his stubbornness almost making me want to laugh, in spite of myself. Glimpses like this of the Erik I had known for so long weren't helping my resolve to stay on guard around him, around the Erik who had been driven to dark, extreme actions.

I sat beside him and carefully peeled away the strip of cloth that covered the gash, wincing when I realized that Erik had bled through the bandage some time ago. "Erik, I'm not going to be able to roll up your sleeve far enough," I said, fighting back the shy embarrassment that was threatening to come over me at my request. But it wasn't like that, I reminded myself, I was just helping him with an injury. "Could you… I'll need you to take off the shirt and jacket, if you could do it without making the injury worse."

Erik looked hesitant but did as I asked him. He wouldn't meet my eyes as the scar-covered skin of his chest and back was exposed to me, and my hand flew to my mouth to stifle a gasp of surprise. The scars criss-crossed all over his skin, leaving hardly an inch unmarked. I opened my mouth to say something but Erik stopped me. "Bad, isn't it?" His voice was devoid of all emotion.

"How did you get all these," I asked softly, focusing again on the task at hand and starting to clean the bleeding gash on Erik's arm. He didn't even flinch as the rubbing alcohol stung his wound, but rather looked pained by my question.

"Long story short, I was just as loved and accepted as a child as I am now," he replied simply. I said nothing, and he finally continued with a sigh. "I never knew my father – he left before I was born, and he could have been dead for all my mother spoke of him. Of course, she hated me from the start, so much that she refused to even sign her name on my birth certificate. She kept me hidden away, rarely ever speaking to me and beating me without mercy, often for no reason other than my face…" I paused and looked up at Erik, waiting for him to continue.

"Eventually I ran away and got caught up in a travelling freak show, hoping that if I actually had a job that I could do, I might have a better life than the one I had left." He scoffed at his own words. "Needless to say, I was wrong. I was confined to a cage, forced to live in conditions worse than an animal. My master was cruel and enjoyed beating me just to make me suffer. But if I actually did something to displease him, he –" Erik stopped, and I looked down to avoid seeing his painfully haunted expression. "Over the years I went from situation to situation, but nothing ever really improved…" I had finished bandaging Erik's arm, and he stood suddenly and stared at his reflection in the mirror with hatred. "…all because of this face," he finished, motioning helplessly to his mask, his voice sounding tired and defeated. His eyes closed and head hung, I took advantage of the moment to study him closer than I had before.

He certainly still looked threatening, as I had come to realize was simply a natural air for him, but now he also looked terribly, deeply grieved. I didn't doubt that he had known enough misery in his life to look so saddened now, like the world was simply too much to bear. And, despite all my reservations, despite everything that had happened, despite how confused I was about everything right now, I felt tears well up in my eyes as I thought of the life he must have lived. I felt genuinely bad for him.

Erik must have been lost in his thoughts; he didn't seem to hear me as I approached him, and he didn't turn to face me. Very timidly, I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed myself to his back, my head resting between his shoulder blades. I felt the sharp intake of his breath at my bold touch, and for a moment his entire body was rigid, resisting me. But soon I felt him relax again and take in a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry for what you've been through, Erik," I said honestly, my words muffled against his skin.

In a flash Erik was gone, storming out of my room and slamming the door closed behind him. For a minute I just stood there, trying to figure out what had just happened. Then, not knowing what else to do, I shed my gown from the night before and drew myself a bath, gladly letting my tired body sink into the hot water. There was a lot that I needed to think about.

**Meg's POV**

"There's no trace of her or the man who took her. We'll continue the investigation, but… as of now, the probability of us finding anything that might lead us to them isn't looking too good."

I sat in the police station next to Mother, Raoul pacing the floor beside us. All morning we had been here, recounting what had happened over and over again, describing exactly what we had seen, but none of the information that any of us gave had been any help. Erik had obviously been well-prepared – he had left nothing behind to lead the police to him and Christine. Mother and I stood tiredly to leave and Raoul followed us out of the building. "I'm sure they'll find something," Mother said to Raoul and me, but obviously not believing it herself.

I nodded but said nothing until Raoul had left us alone. "Mother, why did Erik take her?"

Mother gave me a surprised look. "How do you know about Erik?"

"Christine has told me a little," I admitted. "And even when you're little, he's not exactly the kind of person you can forget."

Mother nodded. "I don't know why he has taken Christine," she said. "Jealously? Madness, perhaps?"

"How do you know him, Mother?"

"Perhaps I'll tell you another time, Meg, but not now," Mother said tiredly.

I accepted that answer for now, but I knew that it would not satisfy me for long. My best friend had been kidnapped right before our eyes, and yet the police could find no trace of her. Mother seemed unwilling or unable to provide information but I was sure she knew more about Erik that she was letting on. I had to find out more about hi. Otherwise, I would have no hope of ever finding Christine and getting her back.

**So, sorry it took me a while to update. I'm going back to school soon and things are starting to get really busy, so I'll probably go back to weekly updates. Of course, if everything manages to calm down, I'd love to continue updating this two or three times a week. Anyway, we will be getting more of Erik's story later, and we probably won't be seeing as much of Meg. I've got lots of plans, though, and I'd love to hear your ideas, so if there's anything you want to see, don't hesitate to PM me or request it in a review. Which is what you should all do now, by the way – review! **


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hello again! I am so, so sorry about the wait for this chapter! Unfortunately school is starting, so I'll probably be back to updating weekly depending on how crazy everything gets. Anyway, thanks so much to those who reviewed, and enjoy the chapter!**

**Erik's POV**

I stormed into my room, muttering curses as my hands shook and my mind remained a muddled mess of thoughts and feelings. Dammit! How could Christine reduce me to this? How could she have such power over me? I was supposed to be in control. And yet she had made me vulnerable. I really hadn't meant to reveal so much, to tell her so much of my past, and the memories that came rushing back to me were too much to bear. Every bit of pain, every harsh and hateful word that had ever been shouted at me, every regret…

And then she hugged me! I couldn't believe it when I felt the warmth of her body against me, the softness of her skin against mine. After all I had put her through, all I was putting her through now, she could still feel sorry for me. Such compassion! It had overwhelmed me, and I had had to get away from her. I couldn't let her do this to me. I couldn't let myself dare to hope that she might care. I had gone my entire life without love; I had always known that no one could ever care for me. But with Christine, it was so different. I _needed_ her. That's why she was here with me now. I needed her with me, and I couldn't let the world take her away.

Images of Christine flashed within my mind – sweet little innocent Christine, smiling and laughing, even happy to see me. What had I done? I had made her hate me. There was no turning back now, but perhaps I could just let her see that she can trust me… then what? Then she'll see that I love her? Then she'll love me? The very notion of it was painfully unrealistic. She would never truly care about me. She might feel pity, but feeling pit and caring about someone were two very different things. She might even have cared about me once, but I had ruined that. There was no one to blame but myself.

I needed relief. I needed to regain control of myself. I needed the pain to go away. With shaking hands I rummaged through my bathroom cabinet, avoiding catching sight of myself in the mirror, until I found what I was looking for – a syringe of morphine. I glared at the object with hate – hate for it and hate for myself for resorting to it, for being reduced to this, for not being stronger – but even I knew that I was already resigned.

I sighed as relief finally filled me, and I let Christine continue to fill my mind. I wouldn't let her go. I couldn't.

**Christine's POV**

For a while I just sat in my room, unsure of what to do and having little more clarity than before. Part of me was urging me to spring to my feet and flee, to run as far away from here as I could. But part of me was telling me to stay. Who knew what would happen if I actually managed to escape, or worse, if I was caught attempting to escape? The man who brought me here was not the same man who I had grown up knowing and trusting, who had been there when I needed someone the most – his extreme actions were enough to prove that. No, this man was the desperate, depraved man who haunted the theatre and killed and kidnapped. But even with this knowledge, I couldn't get past the brief glimpses of the Erik I knew. I couldn't forget the memory of nearly kissing him, the memory of how I had felt then.

I jumped when a knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. "Come in," I said automatically. Erik entered in his normal all-black attire, his white mask starkly contrasting with the rest of him. There were no traces of the emotion that had plagued us both left on his face.

"I thought you might be hungry," he said. "I wanted to see if you wanted any breakfast." I shook my head – I was far from being hungry right now. Erik hesitated, thinking of what to say next. "Would you like for me to show you around?"

Again, I shook my head. "No, thank you. But I would like to talk with you."

Erik looked slightly pained at the suggestion but took the seat that I offered him beside me on the settee. We sat in silence for a moment as I sorted through my thoughts.

"Why am I here?" I asked. "You said that you thought I wasn't focused enough on my music, but that doesn't seem like an excuse to kidnap me." Erik's gaze remained fixed on the floor. "Do you realize that, Erik? You _kidnapped_ me. You took me away from my home, from the only semblance of family that I had." I was starting to talk faster as I let my frustration out. "Is this really what it's come down to? I used to trust you!" I saw Erik flinch at my words through the angry tears that were forming in my eyes.

"Christine," he said softly, his voice betraying the emotion that he hid behind his mask.

I stood abruptly and took a quick step away from him. How could he still make my heart break for him just by saying my name like that? "Just tell me why I'm here," I said coldly.

Erik sat silently for a minute, still refusing to meet my gaze. "I need you here," he said finally, his voice so quiet that I could barely hear him. "I need you here with me." I didn't know what to say, so I was silent until he continued. "You have no idea what kind of life I've lived, Christine. I've lived in solitude, in the deepest darkness fathomable. And I am dying, suffocating in that darkness. You are the only light that I have ever known. You give me life. And I couldn't bear to see the world take you away from me."

Another minute passed in silence as Erik's desperate words sunk in. "What do you mean by the world is taking me away from you?" Erik gave me a meaningful look. "You mean Raoul," I realized.

"I couldn't just let you go," Erik said darkly. "I couldn't just stand by and let that fop woo you away from me."

I almost wanted to laugh – this situation was beginning to seem so absurd. "And while you were so carefully planning all this out, did it ever occur to you that if you hadn't become this dark, murderous madman, I wouldn't have let Raoul 'woo me away' from you? You were always the stronger desire, Erik! I never felt even remotely near as passionately for Raoul as I did –" I stopped myself, knowing that I had already said too much and not wanting to say any more.

Erik was studying my intently as my gaze fell to the floor, then in one fluid motion he was towering over me. The fire in his gaze seemed to pierce my soul, looking into my very being. He gripped my arms tightly and stood so close to me that I could feel his warmth. I knew he was waiting for me to continue, waiting for me to finish the sentence.

"But that was before," I said. "How could I trust you now?"

"Christine, I-"

"I'd like to be alone now," I interrupted. I couldn't stand to hear more. I was already ignoring the urge to lean into him and feel his arms around me. I had to be strong, and I knew that whatever he had been about to say could have completely wrecked my resolve. Erik left without another word, closing the door behind him, and I listened as his footsteps faded away.

I had to get away from here.

**As always, please review! I love hearing what everyone thinks, and if you have ideas or criticism or anything, please let me know. I will hopefully be able to keep updating twice a week for at least a while longer, but I will always update at least once a week.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I'm back! At last, a new chapter! Let me begin this author's note by saying that I'm a horrible person for not updating sooner and I am very, very sorry. Hopefully it just took a while to get back into the swing of things with school starting and I will be updating more regularly now. Anyway, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, and enjoy the chapter! **

**Christine's POV**

I dressed in as many warm layers as I could, as quickly as I could, listening for any sign of movement outside my door as I pulled clothes over my head. I was getting out of here, and there was nothing that was going to stop me. Very cautiously, I opened the door and peered out into the hall. Empty. I crept out, scarcely even allowing myself to breathe for fear of making a sound, and I silently stepped down the stairs and slipped out the door.

For a moment I stood frozen, my quick breaths visible in the frosty air, as I took in my surroundings. I knew I should probably follow the road – that was the best bet if I wanted to actually come across other people and not just get hopelessly lost – but it would also make me easy to find once Erik realized I was gone. So I walked into the trees, making sure to keep the road in sight. Heavy gray clouds filled the sky, promising that snow was soon to come. The wind was beginning to pick up, and despite the many layers I was dressed in, I could feel the coldness hit my skin, and I wrapped my arms around myself to keep warm. _What a great, promising start to the new year_, I thought as big, wet snowflakes began to fall around me.

As I trudged on, my thoughts began to wander back to Erik. Had he noticed that I was gone yet? I wasn't sure how long I had been walking. Shivering in the cold, I couldn't help but remember how strong and warm Erik's arms were. I thought about how, before all this madness, his touch had filled me with fire. But I had always felt safe with him – I knew he would take care of me. I wanted so badly to believe that that Erik was still in there somewhere, behind the man who had kidnapped me, behind the man who had murdered. And maybe he was. Hadn't he opened up about his childhood to me? It wasn't much, but at least it was something. My heart felt heavier just thinking about leaving that Erik, running away from him.

It was snowing much harder now, the harsh wind whipping the icy crystals around me. Maybe I had made a mistake in leaving now. Not only was I cold and alone with no idea where I was, but maybe I needed to be there for Erik, give him a chance. And heading off with not idea of where I was or where I was going probably wasn't my best idea. I sighed, frustrated. Only moments before I had been furious with Erik, and rightfully so; now I was willing to return to him, give him another chance. How on earth could he make me feel like this? Knowing that I was resigned, I turned around to go back, figuring that I would just follow the road. But when I looked around me, all I saw was trees. Trees and snow. Lots of snow. I couldn't see the road at all. I had probably been walking away from it, and I had been so wrapped up in my thoughts that I hadn't noticed.

I tried to retrace my steps, walking for a while with my eyes trained on the ground as I tried to follow my faint footprints. But the snow was covering them, filling them in, and they were quickly becoming indistinguishable. And then I saw it. I saw the road and I ran towards it gratefully, forgetting about how cold I was for a moment. At least now I could find my way back.

I walked quickly, but snow was falling harder and harder, and in a minute I was completely soaked. My hands and feet were going numb, and I was shivering fiercely, but I kept walking. I had to get back – back to safety, back to Erik. I tried to pick up my pace even more as the stone mansion finally came into view, but my body screamed that it was too cold to move. I couldn't have taken another step when I reached the door, and with a breath of relief I reached out to open it… to find it locked. Why was the door locked? Had Erik left?

I sank down on the step, curling up tightly in a futile attempt to warm up. I had made it back. I just hoped that Erik would find me.

**Erik's POV**

Christine was gone! She had been so upset when I had left her, of course she would try to run. Why had I let her out of my sight? The moment I realized she was gone, I left to search for her, at first just looking near the mansion and then driving down along the road when it began to snow harder. I had to find her. Even if she didn't want to be with me, it safe for her to be out in weather like this – she was probably half frozen by now! I looked for her desperately for a while before realizing that she couldn't have gotten this far. I turned around and began to head back, hoping that there was something that I had missed. I would search every inch of these woods myself if it meant finding Christine and knowing she was alright.

And then, I began to see nearly imperceptible footprints in the deepening snow. She was headed back toward the mansion! I drove back as quickly as I could, leaping from the car when I saw the small form huddled by the door. "Christine!" I called as I ran to her.

She didn't move. Her clothes were soaked and her skin was deathly pale, her lips turning blue. She was shivering violently, and her breaths came out in tiny, shallow gasps as I wrapped her in my arms and carried her inside. As if instinctively, she nestled closer to me, resting her head on my chest. "Erik," she breathed.

"Shh, I'm here, Christine," I said soothingly as I carried her up to her room.

Once in her room, I set her on her feet for only a brief moment to quickly strip her of her wet clothes, wrapping her in warm blankets. She still stood there shivering as I started a fire in the fireplace and pulled the settee closer to the warmth of the flames, and I hurriedly returned to her to wrap her in my arms once more. Sitting down with her on the settee, she curled up closely to me as she tried to get warm. I kept my arms around her, as if to reassure myself that she was really there, that she was really safe.

Several minutes passed silently before Christine timidly spoke. "I shouldn't have tried to run." I studied her, trying to read her expression as she continued. "I mean, it was really stupid of me to just head off like that in weather like this. But then I started thinking, and I realized that I was hurting you. And I don't want that. To hurt you, I mean." I sat completely still, barely able to comprehend her words. Christine had come back… because of me? She sighed. "You've made mistakes. Really, really big mistakes. And I still don't know how I feel after everything that's happened, I don't know if I'll be able to trust you again like I used to. But I don't want to hurt you. You still… in some strange way that I don't understand, you still matter to me."

Another minute passed silently as we studied each other – two enigmas trying to figure out what the other was thinking. Christine's compassion filled me with hope, but I had learned long ago that hope was a dangerous thing. I couldn't let myself expect that she might one day forgive me. I couldn't expect anything. All I could do was hold her tighter and silently vow to never let her go.

**Hopefully this was worth the wait! I've already started working on the next chapter, so hopefully I'll be updating again soon. It will be fluffy. Please, please review!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews, I really love knowing what everyone thinks. Enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

Erik held me until I fell asleep in his arms, exhausted and finally warm again. I couldn't explain it, even to myself, but I felt safe in his arms, like I knew that he would take care of me. It made me wish desperately that the last few months had never happened, that I could feel like I could fully let my guard down around him. But I couldn't forget that he had killed. And I couldn't forget why I was here in the first place.

I awoke in my bed, starving and, surprisingly, still tired. I wasn't sure where Erik was, so I took the opportunity to slip out of bed and remove the rest of my clothes from earlier, replacing them with some warm pajamas that I found in the closet. Feeling more comfortable, I took a minute to look at the room around me. No light shone through the windows, but on closer inspection I could see why – snow was drifted up high enough to cover the glass completely. I could hear the wind howling outside, and just thinking about it made me cold again. The fire was still roaring in the fireplace, so I decided to take advantage of it and, grabbing a book at random off of one of the shelves, curled up on the settee and began to read.

I was only a few pages into the book when Erik knocked lightly on the door and entered with a tray full of delicious-smelling food. "Good morning," he said, seeming to have to search for the words.

"It's morning?"

"It's difficult to tell, but yes, it is. I brought you some breakfast if you don't mind. I figured you'd be hungry – you haven't eaten in over a day."

"Thank you, Erik," I said, putting my book aside and making room for him to sit next to me. I quickly accepted the food when he placed it in front of me – I was so hungry. Minutes passed in silence, and as my hunger was satiated, my thoughts began to drift back to yesterday. "Erik, what I said yesterday…" Erik was watching me almost warily, "… I meant it, you know. I don't understand it, but you are important to me." I hesitated. "But that doesn't change the fact that you kidnapped me."

Erik sighed. "What do you want me to do, Christine? What to you want from me?"

I looked up at him, ready to answer snappishly that I wanted to go home. But I saw the sincerity in his eyes, and it caught me off guard. He looked almost… helpless. "I…I don't know."

"I can't change the things that I've done, Christine. I've done plenty of bad things, but I can't change them. I can't even make myself regret them." Erik's voice was not raised; his tone was not dark or threatening. It was simply honest.

"I want… I want to go back to the way things were before all of this."

"You know I can't give you that," Erik muttered. "I can't just make this go away."

"Try," I said firmly. "Just try. What about our music lessons? You said that you brought me here to teach me."

"We will resume our lessons tomorrow, my dear. Today you will rest. I know the last couple of days have been difficult."

I nodded in acceptance. A day of resting did sound nice at this point. "How's your arm?" I asked, indicating to where he had been shot.

"It's fine," he said distractedly. "As I've said, I've had much worse." His expression was unreadable, his gaze seeming unfocused.

"Erik?" Erik looked at me. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Erik said quickly. "I'm just not used to having anyone who was even slightly concerned about my well being."

"If I have to spend today resting, I think you should take toady off, too, and rest with me," I told him decidedly. "I get the impression that you've probably never had a restful day in your life."

"Yes, I find that it's generally difficult to relax when you're despised by the entire human race and are being hunted down by various people," Erik replied coolly.

"Who were you ever hunted down by?"

"Not today," Erik said. "We're resting today. I'd prefer it if that topic was avoided."

"Could you read to me for a while then?" I asked, figuring that that would be a good way to safely avoid discussing any sensitive topics.

"Of course," he said, opening the book that I handed him.

As he read, I felt a deep sense of comfort wash over me and I curled up comfortably on the settee, letting my head rest on his shoulder as his voice resonated within me, melodious and sweet.

**Meg's POV**

The morning looked cold from my window, the sky gray and snow already falling heavily. It was too quiet here, I decided as I brought my steaming mug of coffee to my lips. It was much too quiet without Christine. It hardly even seemed like home without her, really, and there was a distinct empty feeling from the lack of her presence. We had grown up together, and it was so easy to forget that she wasn't actually family.

I jumped when the sound of the door opening shattered the silence. Mother came in, looking cold as she brushed the snow off her coat, but I wasn't about to wait for her to catch her breath. "So?" I asked quickly. "Anything?"

Mother paused in taking off her coat and looked at me, her weary expression dissolving any sense of hopefulness that I had felt. "The police have still been unable to find anything," she sighed.

I was growing frustrated. "I'm sure you could help them, Mother!" I snapped. "I know that you know more about Erik than you let on. Why don't you tell the police?" My voice was rising in anger as tears welled up in my eyes.

"Meg, you don't understand –"

"No, you're the one who doesn't seem to understand, Mother! Christine has been _kidnapped_ by some masked lunatic who no one but you knows anything about. The police can't even find a trace of them; we have no way of contacting her, no way of knowing if she's alright or what he's doing to her. And I'm the one who doesn't understand?"

"Meg, calm down," Mother said, making me sit beside her on the sofa. "There's nothing that we can do. Me telling the police what little I know about that man will not suddenly make it clear where he has taken Christine. And he won't hurt her. I truly believe that Erik would rather die than hurt Christine."

"How do you know that?" I sniffed, wiping the tears from my eyes.

"Erik is a very complicated me," Mother said. "I don't know many specifics about his life, but I know that he has led a terrible, loveless existence. And he cares for Christine very, very deeply. Having never been loved himself, he probably doesn't understand the emotion or know how to react to it. But I'm sure that in his mind he was doing the right thing by taking Christine away from us because it means he can be closer to her." Mother sighed when she saw that my expression remained doubtful. "I know it doesn't make sense. But I promise that Christine will be alright."

I nodded silently, letting Mother stroke my hair soothingly, praying that she was right.

**Thoughts, comments, questions, criticism, or suggestions? Put them in a review!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Hello! I'm so sorry for the delay! I had the chapter all written down fairly soon after I last updated, but I kept running out of time to type and edit it, and then we went camping, and before I knew it two whole weeks had passed! Anyway, thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews – that's what's finally guilted me into blowing off other things to update. Enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

I was so wrapped up in the warm sound of Erik's voice that I didn't notice myself falling asleep again. But I must have, because I woke up, curled tightly against Erik, who was stroking my hair absent-mindedly. I could tell that he didn't realize I was awake, and I was careful not to give any indication of it. If only it could be like this between us all the time – just calm and quiet, two people enjoying each others' company.

I sighed softly as I felt Erik's hand move lightly up and down my back. Part of me hated him for what he had done and hated myself for still feeling so close to him. But Erik was there for me when I needed someone the most. He always had been. He had taught me music and made me feel that no matter what he did, I would never be able to completely forget that fact. As much as I wanted to, I would never be able to stop caring about him.

I shifted slightly, letting Erik know that I was awake but not leaving my warm, comfortable spot beside him. He smiled at me when I looked up at him. "Have a nice nap?"

"Yes, very nice," I said, stretching a little. "But now that it's over, I'm feeling much more rested, and I'm ready to do something that doesn't involve just sitting here."

Erik thought for a minute. "Would you like me to show you around?" he asked.

I nodded, eager to see more of the beautiful mansion. "I'd like that very much."

Erik led me, still in my pajamas, out of my room and down the hall, showing me any room he thought might interest me. "Most of these rooms are completely empty," he explained. "I don't exactly stay here often, so I only prepared rooms I though you might need."

"That explains why all we've seen so far are two music rooms, a study, and a library," I laughed.

We reached a pair of doors at the end of the hall and Erik turned around to walk towards the stairs. "What's in there?" I asked, pointing at the closed doors.

"That's my room," Erik said tersely as he kept walking.

"Can I see it?"

"No."

Knowing better than to argue with Erik, I hurried down the hall to catch up with him. Downstairs seemed to be about as empty as upstairs; all Erik showed me was the kitchen and dining room, a sitting room with a large fireplace and only one chair, and a ballroom that seemed to have been devoid of life for significantly longer than the rest of the house and had only a grand piano in it.

"Why do you keep all the rooms empty?" I asked. "I know you're not usually here, but a little furniture might make it look a little less desolate."

"If you would like more furniture, then I will get anything that is to your liking," Erik said simply.

"It's a beautiful house, though. How did you come by it?"

"A number of years ago, I was looking for some secluded property in this area," Erik explained. "I bought this land and oversaw the construction of the house, and of course I ended up doing much of the work myself."

"You _built_ this place?" I asked, stunned. It was really beginning to dawn on me that I had no idea what Erik was capable of doing.

"It was a very long process, but I did. And when this snow melts, I can show you the grounds if you'd like. There's even a lake just a way behind the house."

"I'd like that," I said. For a moment we stood in silence, suddenly unsure of what to say.

"Christine," Erik spoke finally. "I'd understand if you said no, but would you like to join me for dinner tonight?" He asked so carefully that I almost felt like laughing.

"I'd be happy to have dinner with you, Erik," I said, giving him a warm smile. With that I went back up to my room to get cleaned up and dressed.

I knew that Erik was trying to help me feel comfortable here with him, and I appreciated it. Right now, there was no way out of this situation. I couldn't contact anyone (I hadn't seen a single phone or computer in the entire house), and I had already discovered that attempting to escape probably wouldn't work. For the time being I had to stay put, and some sense of normality definitely wouldn't hurt. There was still a chance that I could help Erik realize that he was wrong to bring me here. Having me with him seemed to put him more at ease, make him more like the old Erik. But no matter how I got back, it would have to wait a while. For now, though, I couldn't let myself get too comfortable around Erik. I had to remember that.

…Which would be difficult, considering the fact that every time I was around him, I felt like I was home.

**Erik's POV**

Christine had agreed to have dinner with me! I had decided to do everything in my power to help her feel safe here, to help her feel comfortable around me again, and dinner was the first thing that came to mind. Now I needed to make everything perfect for her.

As I worked on preparing dinner, my thoughts drifted back to something Christine had said earlier: she had told me that despite everything that I had done, everything that gave her the right to loathe and shun me, she still cared about me in some small way. This morning when she fell asleep curled up next to me, I could do nothing but sit and watch her, amazed that I could still matter to her at all. True, I cared for her more than I had ever cared for anyone. I cared for her more than my own life, and I was convinced that I needed her more than I needed the air that I breathed.

But I also wanted to see her happy here. I needed her here with me, bit I wanted to see her smile and laugh like she did before. When she tried to run away, the thought of losing her made me truly afraid for the first time in a very long while. So when she said that she cared about me, it seemed too food to possibly be true. No one had ever cared about me in even the tiniest way in my entire life. Yet here was Christine, telling me that despite everything I've done, I still matter to her. Part of me still couldn't believe that she had even spoken the words.

That was why I wanted her to be happy and comfortable here; that was why everything had to be perfect tonight. I wanted to matter to her.

**More fluff is on the way! I've been in a fairly fluffy mood lately if you couldn't tell. Probably because homecoming week is next week, and I'm super excited for it, and I've been asked to the dance by a wonderful guy who I like very, very much. Well, enough of my ramblings.**

**As always, please please please please review and make my week even better, and if you have any suggestions or ideas, they are much appreciated!**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: I'm back! Let me begin by saying how very sorry I am that it took me so long to update. It was like I blinked and all of a sudden three weeks had passed. Then I thought "There's no way it's been that long already!" and my calendar was like, "Yuh-huh! It's definitely been that long!" (because all of a sudden I can talk to inanimate objects). And then I saw Phantom 25, which was absolutely amazing (I saw the live showing at my theater and another screening of it a few days later), and it gave me an idea for another phic, so I had to write that before my inspiration left me…**

**So if it would help anyone in the process of forgiving me, feel free to leave reviews suggesting punishments for me, Vlogbrothers style if any of you are familiar with that YouTube channel. If you are not familiar with it, I highly suggest watching some of the videos after you read this, but basically what happens is when someone doesn't put up their new video on time the viewers get to suggest punishments for that person, who then has to make a video of themselves doing whatever punishment they decide to do. So if it makes you feel better, send in your punishments for me and I will do all of them that I am physically, legally, and morally capable of doing ;)**

**Anyway, enough of my long-winded author's note. Enjoy that chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

I took my time showering and dressing, knowing that Erik was putting a lot of work into dinner tonight and wanting to show him that I appreciated his effort. And I really did appreciate his trying to make me feel comfortable – it made it easier not to think about the situation. This was good, because there was no point in dwelling on the fact that he had kidnapped me since there was nothing I could do about it now. I was firm in my resolve that when I could do something, I would. But until then, I could see no point in the whole being-the-miserable-helpless-victim thing.

After dressing in dark jeans and a red V-neck sweater that I was pretty sure was cashmere, I decided to explore my room a bit more. Every discovery revealed more and more nice things that were now mine – things much finer than anything I had ever had back home. I found my thoughts drifting to Meg, and how she would know exactly what to do with this makeup and how to make nice outfits out of these fancy clothes. She had always been more into that sort of stuff than me, but she had also always made it look effortless. I smiled a little as I thought of Meg, but then a much sadder thought entered my mind. _What if I never see her again?_

I quickly tried to push the sadness away, reminded myself not to dwell on what I couldn't change. Jumping slightly as the knock on my door snapped me from my thoughts, I took one last look in the mirror before hurrying to meet Erik. I opened the door to see him standing there looking very composed, still dressed in all black. He gave me a small smile and told me that I looked lovely, and I couldn't help but smile a little in response.

The evening passed in silence that was not uncomfortable but not entirely comfortable, either. I could tell that Erik just wanted me to feel comfortable and at home, and he didn't want to say anything that might upset me. "This is delicious, Erik," I commented after a few bites of the food. "Where did you learn how to cook?"

"One of the many skills I picked up over the years," Erik replied. "I learned some of the basics when I was younger, but it wasn't until I spent a few years traveling Europe that I learned the art of it."

"You've traveled a lot? I never knew that."

"I've been all over the world," Erik said, and then added under his breath so quietly that I almost didn't hear, "and rarely just for the sake of traveling."

Figuring that it would be best not to question him about this comment, I let the subject drop and we finished our dinner in silence. Only now was my situation fully dawning on me, and in the silence in this big, empty mansion I was beginning to feel terribly lonely. I started to think about dinners at home with Meg and Mrs. Giry. They usually consisted of at least one or two types of take-out since neither Meg nor I could successfully make much more than toast and Mrs. Giry was working most of the day. But conversation was always lively, and there were always stories of funny things that had happened to us and retellings of memorable stories shared at past dinners.

"Christine? Are you alright?"

I looked up from my plate to Erik's concerned face and realized that I had tears in my eyes. "I miss my family," I said quietly, my resolve to be strong faltering. "Why can't I go home, Erik? Will I be here forever? Will I never see them again?" My tears had spilled over and slowly ran down my face.

Erik looked helpless as he watched me cry. "Please don't cry, my Christine," he said gently, coming to kneel by my chair. "You will be happy here. I can give you music, Christine. I can take care of you and make you happy. Is there something that you want? I can give you anything, anything your heart desires. Just say the word, Christine, and it's yours! What do you want? What can I give you that will make you happy?"

I had managed to dry my tears, but my voice was still shaky when I spoke. "I want to go home, Erik."

A look of sadness fleeted across Erik's face, but it was quickly concealed with a look of cool indifference. "This is your home now," he said, a trace of bitterness audible in his voice.

It was all I could do to direct a glare at him before standing a quickly leaving the room. Erik made no move to follow or stop me, and as soon as I was out of sight I quickened my pace to a run. I was glad that I had managed to exit with at least a little dignity, but I had no reason to conceal my emotions now. I ran straight to my room and closed the door firmly, tears once again blurring my vision. I knew that being so upset would do me no good, but I couldn't help it – I felt to utterly alone and helpless. At the moment I just needed to feel bad for myself. I just needed to cry.

Not even bothering to undress, I climbed into bed and curled up tightly, wrapping myself in the blankets. There I lied, sobbing quietly as I listened to the howling wind outside, until I eventually drifted off into a restless sleep.

**Erik's POV**

I couldn't believe how terribly dinner had ended. For hours after Christine ran out, I just sat in the dining room unmoving, barely even breathing. I knew I couldn't take her back to the city – she hated me now more than ever, and if I let her slip from my grasp I was certain that I would never see her again. And just the thought of losing my sweet, precious Christine was enough to rid me of any guilt I felt for forcing her to be here.

But she was so sad… I hated myself for making her sad, and I deserved every bit of misery that I would endure at losing her. She was the only person I had ever truly loved, and she was the only person who might have ever cared for me, but all I could do was make her miserable.

With this thought I shot up from where I sat, unable to take the pain any longer. I marched up to my room and fumbled to fill a syringe with morphine – a procedure that I had found myself doing even more with Christine's arrival at the mansion. As relief washed over me, I closed my eyes and let my mind fill with images of Christine.

I saw her smiling and laughing happily, I saw her content to be here with me… But that was as far as I allowed my mind to carry me. To imagine her loving me would be a dream too wonderful to wake from, and facing reality would be too painful to bear; it would be too much pain for any amount of morphine to take away. Unless, of course, I took enough to put me to sleep forever. But while I had toyed with the idea many times and even come close to attempting it more than once, I couldn't do that now – dying would leave my Christine lost and alone here.

So I lied down on my bed, listening to the mournful wind outside, dreaming of the day that I might make Christine happy.

**So, again, I am so sorry this took me so long, and I will try my best to update again very soon. Please, please review, even if it's only to tell me what a horrible person I am for going so long without updating! And, by the way, if you haven't already you should check out my new story, called Darkness, Darkness. **


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Hello! So, this week has been absolutely crazy, so I am very happy to say that I am bringing you this chapter today. Now I have a bit of good news and a bit of bad news. The bad news is that I will be without internet all of next week and will not be able to update. The good news is that I will be in Hawaii all of next week and plan to take advantage of the 7-hour plane trip and the several days that will be spent on the beach to write, so I will have new chapters when I get home. Enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

I stayed in bed the next morning until long after the sun began to shine through my windows. Part of me dreaded getting up, fearing that Erik would be angry with me over my outburst last night. But a night of crying seemed to have done me some good, as I felt slightly more positive and my original resolve to make the best of things until I could leave was even stronger than before. Still, it was with reluctance that I got out of bed and dressed for the day, and I stalled the process in every way that I could – I tried on different outfits and closely examined my reflection while mentally listing the pros and cons of each look, I styled my hair all the ways I could think of before simply pulling it back in a ponytail, and for a while I even tried looking out my windows at different angles to see if I could see around the wall of snow (there were cracks that the sun shone through, so in theory I should have been able to see out).

It wasn't that I was afraid of Erik, or at least that was what I kept telling myself. No matter what, it was still only Erik. And I wasn't ashamed of my conduct last night, either. Really, that was probably a normal reaction to being kidnapped, and I didn't care what Erik thought of it. Not that I had any idea what he thought at all. He had seemed sad for a moment, and I knew that he wanted me to be happy here, but if he was hurt or angry or anything else I wasn't sure. Which was fine, because I didn't care. But no matter how many times I told myself this, I couldn't make myself come any closer to going downstairs to meet him.

Eventually I gave up on stalling, though, and slowly walked from my room, downstairs to the dining room where I figured Erik would be waiting for me. The dining room was empty, though, and it was a few minutes before I discovered him in the sitting room that only had one chair. His eyes were unfocused as he stared unblinkingly into the fireplace, seeming to be hypnotized by flames that were not lit. He was deep in thought. For a while I stood silently, considering how to make my presence known. I jumped when Erik suddenly spoke.

"Did you sleep well, Christine?" he asked without turning around to look at me. I should have known that it was impossible to sneak around unnoticed by Erik.

"I did, thank you. And you?"

"Just fine." Erik stood, walking to the dining room and motioning for me to follow. "I trust you would like breakfast before our music lesson?"

"Breakfast sounds good," I replied. I couldn't tell if he was upset with me or not. "Erik…" At the last moment I decided that it would be best not to bring up last night, and instead I asked the first question that came to my mind. "…how much snow would you say is outside? It covers my windows and I couldn't see out this morning."

"At least a couple feet, and I'm sure that in some places it's drifted up even higher."

"Do you think we could go outside for a while today? I loved playing in the snow when it was this deep when I was little, and it might… help me feel a little more at home here." I smiled slightly at memories of playing in the snow with my father, and I thought I saw the corners of Erik's mouth pull up slightly too. Was he smiling at a memory or at the prospect of making me happy?

"If you work hard at your music lesson, then I see no harm in it," he said, and I lowered my head so he didn't see my smile grow. I knew that this would be no time to try to escape, but the idea of being outside again, of having some slight sense of normalcy and carelessness, was more than a little appealing to me. And even though I knew I would be on a short leash – Erik's tone suggested rather obviously that he half-expected me to bolt upon my first step outside – at least it was something. There was, however, the matter of our music lesson that was making me a little nervous…

**Meg's POV**

The morning was gray and frigid as I walked to the theatre – a tradition which I had decided to begin. The halls were relatively empty and quiet as I made my way to Christine's dressing room. Once there, I closed the door softly and, without even turning on the lights, curled up on the small sofa to think. There was something about this whole ordeal that bothered me (beyond what was to be expected even considering my best friend had been kidnapped), and I figured that if I felt closer to Christine, I might figure out what was bothering me.

No one except the police had been in Christine's dressing room since the night that she had been kidnapped, which felt much longer ago than it actually was. There was an unspoken agreement throughout the theatre, though, that no one would try to fill the room for now, even though extra dressing rooms were always wanted. Filling the dressing room somehow felt like it would be disrespecting her, or like it would mean she was never coming back. But, although no one wanted to even think it, we all knew that she might not come back. Despite Mother's private reassurances that Erik would hurt Christine and Raoul's passionate declarations that he would find her no matter what, part of me knew that, one way or another, she wasn't coming back.

If this Erik was insane enough to steal her away out from under the eyes of hundreds of people, then who was to say what he was or was not capable of doing?

Suddenly I remembered that night so long ago when Christine had disappeared out from behind her locked dressing room door. When Mother brought her home the next morning, hadn't Christine said that she had been with Erik? But her dressing room door had been locked, and I had been with her in there earlier that same night and Erik had definitely not been in the room then… I stood suddenly and began searching the room like a madwoman, carefully examining the walls, the floor, the ceiling, everything. It was just a crazy hunch, but what if Erik had another way into Christine's room?

I examined the windows, but they didn't open and would have been difficult to get to from the outside of the building anyway. I couldn't find anything. I was ready to give up, but then I caught sight of my reflection in the huge, full-length mirror. Something inside of me felt sure that this was it, this was what I was looking for, and I approached it almost cautiously, as if I was afraid that my certainty would vanish. I was right, though, and my fingers found an impossibly well-hidden switch on the inside of the frame. I pressed it, and the glass sung open to reveal a dark passageway. Just as I was about to step through the mirror, though, my phone rang, making me jump and nearly making me scream. It was Mother.

"Hello," I said, trying not to let my voice sound shaky. Instinct was telling me no to reveal my discovery to anyone, at least not yet.

"Meg, why aren't you at rehearsal?"

"Oh!" I had forgotten completely about rehearsal today. "I…uh…I accidentally overslept this morning and I'm running late now. But I'm on my way!"

After saying goodbye and hanging up, I quickly replaced everything in the room and quietly, unnoticed, slipped out into the hall.

**Please review!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, as always. Enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

I sighed and tiredly ran my hands through my hair. Apparently, Erik had decided that our lessons could become more intensive now that I had no other place to go. Usually, he let me leave after an hour or two of working my voice gently and on a variety of things. Today, though, we had spent nearly an hour on scales and warm-up alone, and had spent over half an hour on the same few measures of music. Erik hit my starting note on the piano. "Again," he said for what felt like the millionth time.

"_Love's a curious thing,_

_It often comes disguised._

_Look at love the wrong way –_"

My voice faltered, hitting the note wrong. "Again," Erik repeated, playing my starting note on the piano once more.

"Erik," I sighed. "We've been working on this forever, and it's not getting any better. And my voice is getting tired. Can we please stop now?"

"Christine, I know that you can sing this. You're just not trying," Erik replied, frustration beginning to seep into his voice.

"I _am_ trying, Erik," I argued. "I just can't do it. I haven't been as good as I used to be since…" …since the night of Bouquet's death. That was the night I had stopped singing for Erik.

Erik seemed to know what I meant to say and he grimaced slightly, his gaze falling to the floor. "That doesn't matter," he said. "What matters is that you're going to get better now. But I suppose we can move on to something else for the time being."

"My voice is tired," I reminded him. "You don't want me to lose it."

"No," he agreed. "But perhaps it would be beneficial for you to learn to use another instrument in addition to your voice. What would you like to learn?"

"You're offering to teach me any instrument I want?"

Erik nodded. "Over the years I've taught myself to play many instruments, and I have them all here. A lifetime of solitude doesn't come without a few advantages," he added almost laughingly.

I thought for a minute. Years ago, Erik would sometimes take me to watch the orchestra rehearse at the theatre. I would listen, captivated, while Erik pointed out the different instruments and the sounds they made. "Cello," I decided. "I'd like to play the cello." The deep, resonant sounds of the cello section had always been my favorite, and I listened for them even while onstage performing.

Erik took an old-looking cello out of a case in the corner and pulled up two chairs for us to sit on. He patiently showed me how to adjust the height of the endpin and how to tighten and rosin the bow. Then he showed me how to twist the pegs to tune the strings – a process that I found excruciatingly difficult, especially since Erik required that each pitch be exactly in tune. Finally, I pulled the bow carefully across each string (Erik had also shown me how to do this correctly while I had been tuning) and much to my satisfaction, Erik accepted the pitches. An hour later, my fingers were raw but I could play a two-octave C-major scale with some accuracy.

"Good," Erik said, smiling at me. "You learn quickly. I think you deserve the rest of the day off."

"First, would you play something for me?" I asked, handing the cello to him.

He nodded and thought for a minute. Then he began to pluck out the first notes of an enchantingly beautiful melody and drew out long chords with the bow. He played masterfully, and the song was like nothing I had heard before. When Erik finished I jumped to my feet and applauded enthusiastically.

"That was beautiful! Did you write that?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Julie-O. Quite a fun little piece to play when you haven't played in a while."

"I loved it."

"Good. Now go run and change." I looked at him questioningly. "You still want to go outside, don't you? You'll need warmer clothes."

I smiled and practically ran to my room to get changed. In my excitement, I realized that not once in the last few hours did I think about wanting to go home.

**Erik's POV**

Only moments after our lesson had ended, Christine came bounding back downstairs, pulling on a coat, hat, and gloves that she had found in her room. "Ready, Erik?" she asked eagerly as I pulled on my coat. I had to smile at seeing her so happy and excited. Music had taken her mind off things, just as I had hoped.

"I'm ready if you are, my dear," I said, walking to the front door where she waited for me. She was careful to stay near me as we walked outside, and I knew she wanted me to trust that she wouldn't try to run.

Thick, gray clouds hung low in the sky, but it was no longer snowing. The air was cold and thick with moisture, though, and our breaths came out in puffs before us. The snow came almost to Christine's waist, and she laughed delightedly as she fell backwards into it. She looked like a child playing in the snow, innocent and radiant with life. "Erik, c'mon!" she yelled to me where I stood on the steps.

"I'm fine here, Christine," I said, not particularly interested in running into the deep snow and perfectly content just to watch her.

Christine rolled her eyes dramatically, scooped up a handful of snow, packed it into a ball and threw it at me, hitting me squarely in the chest. She squealed in pretend horror as I looked at her with mock scolding and waded into the snow and she realized that she had provoked an attack. Looking pointedly at her the whole time, I made a show of scooping up snow, packing it and throwing it at her. She dodged it easily and playfully stuck out her tongue. Soon an all-out war had escalated, and snowballs flew in every direction. Christine paused for a moment to catch her breath, and I took advantage of the break, running and scooping her up in my arms. She laughed and struggled helplessly as I dumped her into a large pile of snow, which she promptly pulled me into as well. I found myself laughing, truly, happily laughing with her.

When we finally returned inside, we were both soaked and gasping for breath. Christine made quite the adorable sight with snow malting in her curls and on the tips of her eyelashes, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. "I'm going to go have a bath," she said breathlessly, still recovering from a fit of laughter. When she reached to bottom of the staircase, though, she turned back to me. "Thank you, Erik," she said honestly, and then disappeared up the stairs.

**Hope you enjoyed this bit of fluff! There will be just a little more fluff, and then we will return to the drama. Then there will be more fluff. Then I'm not sure what will happen. If you have any ideas or suggestions, feel free to let me know. Anyway, National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo, starts in just a couple days, and that will most likely eat up all my writing time next month. Fortunately, I have a few chapters prewritten, so you can expect at least a few updates. Please review – more reviews = more updates!**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Hello, everyone! As always, thank you all for the wonderful reviews. I meant to mention in my last author's note that the song Julie-O from the last chapter is indeed a real song, and it is one of my favorite things to hear on the cello. So you should look it up if you get a chance. Anyway, enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

After that day, things got better. Days began to turn to weeks, almost without notice, and the weather warmed. I found myself thinking less and less of my home in the city until I almost never thought of it at all. Life with Erik was falling into a comfortable routine; we took our meals together, had music lessons in the morning, used the afternoons however we wanted, and in the evenings I would sit in the chair in the sitting room, reading and listening to Erik work on his opera in the music room.

I still couldn't sing the song that Erik had first given me. I wanted to sing the beautiful melody, but I just couldn't get it. We worked on it every morning, though, along with our regular scales and exercises and arias. And when my voice grew tired, Erik would pull out the cello and I would practice the exercises that he gave me. As the days and weeks passed, I began to realize that not only did I feel content to be here with Erik, I was enjoying my time here. I still missed my home; I still missed Meg and Mrs. Giry. But I had stopped thinking that I had been kidnapped and that I would never see them again – instead I felt that this was simply a new living situation, as if I had simply moved away from home.

I was noticing that Erik seemed happier, too. He smiled and laughed genuinely with me, and he was more at ease than I could remember ever seeing him. Our relationship had progressed back to where it had been before everything started happening, though there were a few times when my mind entertained the possibility of feeling something more for the briefest of seconds. I found myself remembering that time in my dressing room more and more often, though I tried not to let myself think of it. Did Erik still find me attractive like he must have then? Did I want Erik to find me attractive? It was almost too much to think about, too many things too consider, so I didn't think about it.

One afternoon I wandered aimlessly around the house, not sure of what to do. Erik was in one of the music rooms working on his opera, which he still would not let me see or hear beyond one or two wordless melodies. I didn't feel like practicing anything – I was growing frustrated with the lack of life in my voice, and I would never dream of touching any of the instruments without Erik's presence, as he tended to be very protective of them. And so I walked slowly through the halls, taking time to look closely at the detailed architecture. When I passed a half-closed door that I had passed many times, though, something made me pause and look inside.

The ballroom was empty except for a piano, just like the last time I saw it. The wall across from me was taken up by three huge windows that almost reached both the floor and the ceiling, and the other walls were covered with mirrors. Everything had a layer of dust on it, and the golden late-afternoon sunlight that shone through the windows lay in streaks across the floor. There was energy to the room, as if it was begging to be brought to life.

I walked into the room carefully, the slightest noise echoing loudly in the silent space. Turning in a circle, I admired my surroundings. It really was a beautiful room.

"Would you like to dance?"

I nearly screamed in surprise when Erik spoke; I hadn't noticed that he had come to stand in the doorway. "I don't know how," I said.

"It's not difficult," Erik replied, walking towards me and hold out his hands. I gently wrapped one arm around his neck as he instructed and took his hand with the other, while he put his other hand on the small of my back. It felt good to be this close to him, to be able to feel his warmth and the solidness of his body. Physical contact was rare for us, and it seemed almost deliberate on his part. It might have been deliberate on my part, too.

"We don't have any music," I pointed out, trying to focus on anything except how Erik's nearness made my heart race.

"We don't need any music," Erik said. "Just follow my lead."

He moved smoothly, gracefully, which shouldn't have surprised me. I did as he said and followed his lead, and soon we were dancing. Our music was the whoosh of the blood rushing through out veins, the hum of the air around us as we moved. I laughed as he twirled and dipped me, and then out eyes locked. Our music stopped, and neither of us made the slightest movement. I was so close to Erik that I could feel the rise and fall of his chest against mine. I felt a new music within me, flowing darkly, heavy and sensuous. I knew that Erik could feel this music, too, and the heat between us grew.

I took both his hands in mine and took a step back. My body seemed to move of its own accord and swayed fluidly, seductively, to the music we felt. Erik watched me, desire evident in his eyes, and I felt emboldened by his gaze. Pulling myself back to him and pressing my body against his, I wrapped my arms around his neck and felt his hands firmly on my hips. Slowly I reached up to caress his face, which was just inches away from mine. But as my fingers neared the edge of his mask, Erik abruptly pulled away from me, walking out of the room without a word.

**Meg's POV**

_Dear Christine,_

_ I know that you'll never read this letter, but I thought it might help to feel like I'm talking to you. I miss you so much, and I pray that you're ok._

_ The police have all but stopped looking for you. They said weeks ago that the trail had gone cold and that if you weren't impossible to find before, you would be now. Mother says that as long as Erik wants you to remain hidden, no one will be able to find you. But I'm not giving up on you._

_ I found a passage behind the mirror of your dressing room. Creepy, right? I tried to follow it, but it dead-ended pretty quickly. I don't think it used to end there – I think that's how Erik took you away the night of your debut. I wish you were here to tell me things like this that I never thought to ask you earlier._

_ We don't see Raoul very often anymore. He used to come around once in a while to ask how we were and if there was any news of you, but he hasn't come for a while. He still goes to the theatre, but he doesn't say anything to Mother or me. I do know, though, that his family is still looking for you, with all their money and resources, so maybe they'll have better luck. I doubt it, though. Mother and I haven't told him anything about Erik. I've tried, because I think it might help them find you, but then Mother gives me this stern, warning look, and I never say anything._

_ I still don't understand why Erik kidnapped you. It makes me thing that there was stuff that you weren't telling me – I'm sure there's more to this than just a random act of madness and desperation. Mother says that Erik would never hurt you, though, and I hope very badly that that's true._

_I can only hope that soon you'll come home, that soon you'll be able to read this._

_Meg_

**That's the chapter! Lots of exciting stuff is about to happen, so stick around! NaNoWriMo is kind of eating my soul right now, but I will update as soon as possible. Remember: more reviews = faster updates!**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Hello, my lovely readers! I realized the other day how much I miss writing fanfiction, since NaNoWriMo takes up all of my writing time (as well as most of my school time, sleep time, and, well, everything else). So you can expect more frequent updates once the month is over. As always, a huge thank you to everyone who reviewed, and enjoy the chapter! Things are about to get interesting…**

**Christine's POV**

Erik and I didn't talk about what had happened in the days that followed. We simply went back to our routine, as if nothing had changed. It was getting harder to deny that I might have feelings for him, though. But of course I knew that he couldn't possibly feel the same way for me. To him, I was sure, I was simply his student, his ward. And I was not sure if I felt bitterness or slight relief at the thought. So I just tried not to think about it.

But one night, everything changed for us. I walked to the sitting room, ready to sit and read while Erik worked on his opera as usual. But instead I found Erik sitting in the chair, a fire lit in the fireplace before him to fight against the chill of the early-spring night. He turned and smiled at me when I entered. "Not working tonight?" I asked.

Erik shook his head. "No, I thought it might be nice to take a night off." He looked at the book in my hands. "What are you reading?"

"_Jane Eyre_," I said. "I'm at a really good part, too."

"Would you like me to read to you for a while?" I nodded eagerly and handed Erik the book, curling up on his lap after it was determined that I could not sit on the floor. Erik opened the book to where I had left off and began to read, his voice making the already beautiful words sound like music. "_'I tell you I must go!' I retorted, roused to something like passion. 'Do you think that I can stay to become nothing to you? Do you think I am an automaton? – a machine without feelings? and can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips, my drop of living water dashed from my cup? Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! – I have as much soul as you – and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you.'_"

"Poor Jane," I said quietly. "How could Mr. Rochester marry someone else when he clearly loves her?"

Erik looked at me amusedly. "Have you not read this before?" I shook my head, and with a small smirk he continued reading. I became absorbed in the words, and my breath caught in my chest as Erik reached Mr. Rochester's line, "_'I would not – I could not – marry Miss Ingram. You – you strange, you almost unearthly thing! – I love you as my own flesh. You – poor and obscure, and small and plain as you are – I entreat you to accept me as a husband.'_"

Erik's smile grew when he saw the smile on my face. "It doesn't end there," he reminded me. "You're barely half way through the book."

"I know," I said. "But it's still really happy." I had a flash of memory, then, of sitting on Erik's lap as he read to me much like this, only he was much younger, and I looked contentedly between him and my father. "You used to read to me like this when I was little, before my father died," I said, surprised. "You didn't just know my father – you knew me."

Erik nodded and set the book aside. "I knew you and your father for quite a while before he died. He was a good man; he was one of the few people who ever trusted me, and one of the even fewer who I ever trusted."

"How did my father die?" I asked suddenly. "I mean, I know that he died in an accident, but was it a car accident or something? I don't remember ever being taken to a hospital to see him or anything. I don't even remember who told me that he was dead. I just remember knowing that he was dead."

"You were young," Erik said. "It's not surprising that you don't remember."

"Erik, please, if you know, just tell me. I'm not a child anymore, and you don't need to protect me. Before, all that mattered was that he was dead, but now I think I'm ready to know what happened."

"Don't ask me to tell you, Christine," Erik said almost pleadingly. "It will only hurt you." When I didn't back down, Erik sighed. "I was with you… when your father died," he said.

"I didn't know that," I said. "I don't remember it."

"That doesn't surprise me. You were in a lot of shock." Erik looked deeply saddened as he continued. "In the past, I was involved with some very dangerous people, but then I decided to leave. I traveled the world before I came to New York, and I didn't think that they would still be tracking me, that they would have any interest in me at all. I didn't know, I swear to God, Christine, I didn't know. But I was at your house and some men came to the door. Charles, he knew enough of my past to know that they were dangerous, and he told me to take you to your room and call the police. I wanted to just leave with the men, keep you both safe, but Charles insisted that I was his friend and he wouldn't let me. He told the men to get off his property." Erik looked at me. "Your father was a good man with an iron will and even stronger morals. He was the best man I've ever known."

I was beginning to remember. _I was scared and I didn't know what was going on, and I clung fiercely to Erik, asking who my father was talking to and why they wouldn't leave. Erik told me to cover my ears and close my eyes and sing the song that I had sung to him earlier that day._

Erik wouldn't look at me as he spoke. "I hear the shot fired just before the sirens could be heard. The sirens must have scared the men off, because when I left your room they were gone. But Charles…"

Tears stung my eyes, and I knew that was the end of the story. I didn't know what to say or think or feel… the grief of my father's death came rushing back to me, and I felt surprisingly angry. "You never told me," I said quietly. "Why did you never tell me?" Erik didn't answer me, and I stood and took a few steps away from him. "It's your fault!" I yelled. "My father's dead, and it's your fault! If it wasn't for you, if I had never known you, if you had never come to our house, my father would still be alive! He died defending you, and you never even told me! It's your fault he's dead!" I knew that I was beyond reason now, but I didn't care.

"Christine," Erik said pleadingly, reaching out to me.

"No!" I screamed. "Don't touch me! I hate you! I hate you! It should have been you, not my father! It should have been you!"

Erik looked as if I had just slapped him, which I was tempted to do. I couldn't understand what I was feeling, but all of the grief of the past years had hit me all at once and the feeling was too strong to contain. "Go," Erik said so softly I almost didn't hear him. "Take clothes, food, money, the car, whatever you want. Just go." Erik handed me the key to the car, and I opened my mouth to question him, my anger briefly dying down. "Go now!" he roared. "Leave me!"

I ran to my room and quickly tossed some clothed in a bag. I didn't know if they would have kept my old clothes at home. Home. I was finally going home. When I came out of my room, Erik was not where to be found, but I could see the light on in his room. For a second I almost considered apologizing, but then I remembered that my father's death had been his fault, accident or not, and the pain overpowered any guilt I had felt. My hatred welled up fresh inside of me, and I stormed out of the house, thankful I would never have to see him again.

**Erik's POV**

My hands shook, and I barely noticed the weight of the syringe in my hand – heavier than normal, much fuller. I didn't know exactly how much I would need, but this seemed like more than enough. Christine was right, no matter how much her last words to me stung – it should have been me. I should have died all those years ago, not her father.

It was time to make things right.

**I just realized that I managed to end both this chapter and the new chapter of Darkness, Darkness with huge cliff-hangers. You know you don't want to wait to find out what happens next! More reviews = more updates!**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: I'm back! NaNoWriMo is officially over, and I successfully wrote 50,000 words! Yay! And that means that I can get back to writing phanfiction, and since I've gotten used to writing obsessively over the last month, I will probably be more motivated to update often. As always, a huge thank you to everyone who reviewed, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

I made it all the way out to the car before something stopped me. I literally froze, my hand reaching out to put the key in the ignition, when a feeling hit me that was so horrible I thought I was going to be sick. I couldn't do this. I didn't know why, but everything inside of me was screaming at me that I couldn't leave, not now, not like this.

_But Erik is responsible for my father's death, and I hate him,_ I reminded myself, trying with all my strength to move my hand and start the car. _And besides that, he kidnapped me and held me here against my will. Now is my chance to get away from him, to go back to the city. _I was so close to finally being free. And yet something was stopping me. It was as if I was physically bound to Erik and could not go any further, or I would not be able to survive if I left him. I tried to tell myself that I wanted to leave him, that I hated him and never wanted to see him again, but the excuse sounded weaker and weaker every time I thought it. Instead, as the seconds ticked by, I was beginning to be seized by an icy sense of panic. Fear gripped me, though I could not even begin to guess why, and I soon found myself racing from the car back into the house

"Erik?" I called, though I received no reply other than my own voice echoing through the empty halls.

The absoluteness of the silence around me made the hairs on the back on my neck stand on end. Something was wrong; that was why I couldn't make myself leave. Something was terribly wrong, and I could feel it.

I ran up to Erik's room, throwing open the door without a second thought. Erik looked up when I entered, though his gaze was unfocused, as if he was looking past me. My eyes fell on the syringe in his hand, waiting to fulfill its purpose. "Erik," I said shakily. "Please, Erik, put that down."

"But this will be enough," Erik said. "The first one wasn't, but this should be more than enough."

Every bit of anger that I had felt just moments before was replaced with fear as understanding hit me, cold and startling in its intensity. "Enough for what?" I asked even though I feared I already knew the answer.

"Enough to make you happy; enough to end your pain," Erik replied solemnly, looking down that the needle that stood poised to pierce his skin. "Enough to make sure that you never have to see me again."

I approached Erik very slowly and, holding out my hand, said with much more strength and certainty than I actually felt, "Erik, give that to me."

Erik looked at me unsurely, but he handed over the syringe before closing his eyes with a resigned sigh, as If he expected to feel the prick of the needle by my doing. Disgusted, I walked into the bathroom and emptied the contents of the syringe into the sink and tossed it into the trash can, unsure of what else to do with it. When I went back out into the bedroom, Erik was still sitting where I had left him on the edge of a rather intimidating bed – massive, with an intricately carved black wooden frame and blood-red silk sheets. I sat down next to him as I tried to think of what to say. The realization that I had driven him to attempting suicide was still sinking in.

"I shouldn't have stormed out like that, Erik," I apologized softly. "You just… took me by surprise. I didn't mean those things that I said."

Erik shook his head, seeming slightly more lucid now. "You were right, though," he said. "Charles's death is my fault."

"It was not your fault. You said yourself that you could not have known that you were being followed. It was an accident, Erik. I was just looking for someone to blame because I was angry."

"And are you still angry?" Erik asked.

"I don't know," I answered honestly.

Erik covered his face with his hands, but I could see him shuddering in silent sobs. Though he still wore his mask, he seemed more truly exposed than I could ever remember. "You cannot really be here, Christine," he said. "It cannot really be you – you are long gone by now. You hate me so much that you would surely never come back. You have got to be some dream sent to torture me until I can at last die."

I slipped my hands under Erik's, cupping his face gently to make him look at me. "I still need time to process everything," I admitted. "But I do not hate you, and I certainly do not want you to die. Promise me that you will never try to end your life again."

Erik was silent for a moment, but his eyes never left mine. "As long as you truly want me to continue living," he said finally.

"I swear to you, Erik, that I do not want you to die," I told him firmly. Erik leaned back onto the bed, closing his eyes. He looked exhausted, weary of the world. "You can rest," I told him. "We can talk about this later. I will stay with you."

Without a word, Erik pulled me down to lay next to him, wrapping his arms around my waist. I sighed, resting my head against his chest, listening to the beating of his heart. But I was content to simply lay there silently with him; I had a lot that I needed to think about now.

**Erik's POV**

When my mind floated back into consciousness, the first thing I became aware of was the small, warm body that I held in my arms, and I knew that I had to be dreaming. Why else would Christine be here with me now, staring up at me with wide, innocent dark eyes? I had let her go, I had given her freedom. She hated me and never wanted to see me again. But then the events of the previous hours came rushing back to me. She had stopped me from killing myself; my Christine had told me that she did not want me to die.

"Are you ready to talk now?" Christine asked, and though I still did not feel entirely clear, I nodded.

"What would you like to talk about?" I asked her. "What would you like to know?"

"Everything," Christine said. "Tell me everything from the very beginning."

I sighed, not wanted to tell her. But she looked at me patiently, kindly, and I knew that I didn't really have a choice. "Alright," I said. "Everything.

"I'm not sure exactly where I was born, but I remember that it was a very small town. I never knew my father – I don't know if he had died or simply left my mother, but she never talked about him, at least not to me. My mother's name was Madeleine. She hated me. From the moment I was born, she hated me. She refused to sign a birth certificate, and after a few days she had convinced everyone she knew that she did not have me – that I had died. She kept me in the basement with a bag over my head, never even speaking to me and beating me if I ever uncovered my face around her. My first memories are of looking at books and other old things that she kept down there with me. When I finally ran away, I couldn't have been older than five, but I was already aware that I was being treated unfairly.

"Of course, though, a boy that young can only last so long on his own, and I ended up in some barely-legal traveling freak show. The man who owned it made me call him my master and put me in a cage, where I was forced to watch people laugh and gawk at my face day in and day out. He would whip me just to please the crowds. And of course, it was much, much worse when there weren't any people around to see what he did to me."

Christine cringed, but I continued anyway. "I stayed there in the freak show for a few years. Then I met Antoinette Giry." Christine looked up in surprise at the mention of Giry's name. "She was no older than you, then, but she helped me escape. We didn't meet again until after your father's death.

"Once I was away from the freak show, I traveled the country until what I suppose must have been my early teens, just going wherever I could walk or hitch-hike to and learning new trades wherever I went. I actually ended up in New York City, though my work then was shady, to say the least. I… I dealt drugs for a huge empire of a family that claimed to have sold half of what was floating around the city. But the work was becoming too dangerous, and I was getting too deeply involved. They wouldn't let me leave, and when I ran, they assumed that it was because I had stolen from them, or because I knew something that I shouldn't. They had me tracked, hunted, and on more than one occasion it was only sheer luck that kept me from meeting a very gruesome, merciless end. I learned to kill; I had to if I wanted to stay alive.

"I made it out of the country, though, and for years I traveled through Europe and the Middle East, doing various, legal jobs. For a while, I trained under a master stone mason and architect. That is how I acquired most of the money that I have today, Christine – honest work. I was probably no older than twenty when I returned to New York. I was starting to slip back into my old ways, though, when I met your father. He helped me, he saw past all that I was and saw what I could be. He even trusted me with the most precious thing that he had in the world: you, his little daughter of barely six years old! He found me a job as one of the architects when the theatre was being renovated, which is how I came to live there. And well, I suppose that you know the rest."

When I looked back to Christine, her eyes were filled with tears. She did not let them fall, though, as she stood and nodded her head. "Will you be alright if I go unpack my things?" she asked quietly.

"I'll be fine," I said, though I barely registered the fact that this meant she was staying. Without another word, she left the room and closed the door softly behind her, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

**That's the chapter! Just so you all know, as of now, I do not picture this story as being even half over. I have great plans for this… Anyway, please let me know what you think, and if you have anything that you would like to see happen, just let me know! More reviews = more updates!**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Hello, dear readers! Sorry for the delay – finals week kind of snuck up on me. But I took the rest of my tests today, and I now have several weeks where school can't intrude on my writing time. As always, a huge thank you to everyone who reviewed, and I hope that this chapter is worth the wait!**

**Christine's POV**

My hands shook as I left Erik's room, but I held myself together, focusing on retrieving my duffle bag from where I had left it in the entryway and taking it up to my bedroom to unpack. It was not a conscious decision – my decision to stay. Erik needed me to be here, so I would be here. It was no longer a question of right or wrong, an evaluation of the bad things that Erik had done against the good things. How could it be, when I had driven someone I was so close with to almost committing suicide?

That was another train of thought that was heavy on my heart as I very calmly unpacked my things and put them back in their places. I had made Erik want to die. He cared about me, about my happiness, so much that when I blamed him for my father's death, he would have killed himself to make my happy. And the worst part was that I never would have known. I could so easily have left this place and never looked back, never even wondering what had become of him. Erik would have left this world in much the same way that he entered it: alone and without a soul in the world who gave a damn about him. The very thought of me leaving him here to die and never even thinking about him again seemed so cruel that it was enough to bring fresh tears to my eyes.

But the important thing was that I didn't leave. I tried to focus on that, tried to be positive. Something had kept me from leaving Erik; something had called me back to him with such fierce strength that it felt like gravity was pulling me towards him. That was the only reason that he was not dead now.

I finished unpacking and went to check on Erik, only to find him asleep exactly where I had left him. I was happy he could sleep so peacefully – he obviously needed rest. It had been a long night for us both. Had it really been only hours ago that I had sat contentedly on his lap while he read to me? Watching him sleep made me feel incredibly weary, but I couldn't sleep yet. It had occurred to me that Erik might have been taking whatever was in that syringe in smaller doses, and the curiosity mixed with concern was eating away at me.

I quietly went through the few cabinets in the bathroom, coming up with several unopened bottles of morphine. I set them on the counter by the sink, unsure of what to do with them. I wanted to get rid of them, but if Erik had been using this regularly, as I was now suspecting, giving it up would have to be his choice. So I left the bottles sitting there on the counter, waiting for the morning, when everything seemed safe and secure.

The red glow of numbers on a clock caught my eye as I walked back into Erik's darkened room. It was almost three in the morning. Suddenly, the weight of those hours that had passed seemed to bear down even heavier on me, threatening to crush me, making my knees begin to buckle with exhaustion. There was nothing that could be done until morning. Perhaps I could justify sleeping as long as I was close enough to Erik to know when he woke – after everything that had happened, I wanted to keep an eye on him for a while, make sure that he was completely alright.

Going back to my room to change into pajamas and grab a blanket, I think went back to Erik's room and curled up in a big armchair. I could not fall asleep, though. I felt cramped and uncomfortable, and I soon found myself watching Erik sleep. The bed looked so comfortable… And it was so big, it wouldn't even be like we were in the same bed. Really, I could even sleep across the foot of the bed just fine.

But as I watched Erik, I realized that I didn't know whether or not I was still mad at him. It was hard to stay angry at someone after they had tried to commit suicide to make you happy. And now that my initial anger had calmed, I saw that my father's death truly had been an accident. I felt bad for Erik, not that I knew the kind of life that he had led, and I was relieved that he had been honest in telling me everything. My mind tried to tell me that his life did not justify the things that he had done, but I knew that knowing how hard his life had been was helping me forgive his wrongdoings. My mind tried to tell me that he had kidnapped me, but I knew that now I was here of my own free will.

My mind tried to tell me that I shouldn't care for him, but my heart wouldn't allow it.

Knowing this made me feel free of some small burden, and so, with my blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I climbed onto the bed. Draping the blanket over both me and Erik, I laid down next to him, though I was careful not to touch him. And as I listened to his rhythmic, almost musical breathing, I quickly fell into a deep sleep.

**Erik's POV**

I awoke to several very unfamiliar sensations at once. Light poured in through the windows, and I didn't need to look at the clock to know that it was quite late in the morning, and I never slept late. Usually, I barely slept at all. I was still in my clothes from last night, but there was a soft blanket draped over me, and there was distinct warmth beside me. I looked over and was surprised to find Christine's sleeping form curled up next to me. I couldn't help but smile slightly – she had been so strong last night, so brave.

But now my entire body ached. I was feeling nauseous, and I was craving morphine much worse than I had before. I quietly got out of bed, careful not to wake Christine. Just a little won't hurt, I tried to convince myself. I could only imagine what Christine would think, what she would say, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

It seemed that Christine had already gone through my bathroom – several bottles of morphine sat on the counter, as if they were waiting for me. The sight of the bottles filled me with guilt, though. Christine obviously cared. She had probable left the bottles on the counter because she had wanted to get rid of them. The need for morphine was stronger than the guilt, though, and I began to search for a syringe. But before I could find one, I glanced up to the mirror and in the reflection saw Christine standing in the doorway behind me, watching me with a pained expression.

"Last night, you almost killed yourself with that, and you already want more of it," she said bluntly.

I opened my mouth to speak, to defend myself somehow, but I found that I had nothing to say. "Get out," I said finally, finding a sterilized syringe.

"Erik, please don't," Christine said pleadingly, her voice softer. "You'll only want it more and more, and someday you _will_ die from it. Please, Erik," she begged, and then added more softly, "for me."

I sighed and set the syringe down. Do it for her. It would be far from easy, but what else could I do? It was clear that Christine was not about to give up on me. I would do anything for her, and she knew it. Wordlessly, I poured each bottle of morphine down the sink as Christine watched. It wasn't until after I disposed of the syringe and the bottles that Christine approached me and, very timidly, wrapped her arms around me.

"Thank you," she sighed. "You'll be glad you gave it up, you know."

"It won't be easy," I told her. "I've… I've grown accustomed to having morphine in my system. Even after I've withdrawn from it, I'll still want it. I'll need your help."

"I'll be here."

**So, obviously our lovely couple has a bit of a rough time coming up, but when do things ever go perfectly for them? The answer: things will start going towards perfect very, very soon. More reviews = more updates!**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Hello, dear readers! It's Winter Break, which means that for the past few days I have done nothing but read, write, and plan my post-graduation trip to New York. As always, thank you so much for the wonderful reviews, and enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

Erik said it wouldn't be easy, and he certainly did not lie. Watching him as he went through withdrawal was the hardest thing that I had ever done. I had always relied on Erik; for as long as I could remember, I had known that Erik would be there to take care of me. But now he was weakened and in pain, and I had to take care of him. At first, I tried to distract him from the cravings and the pain. I asked him to give me lessons, or to play for me. But it only got worse for Erik, and by the middle of the second day I was trying to send him back to bed.

"Do you need to go to a hospital?" I asked, startled as he stumbled into the room. I had no idea where the nearest hospital was or how to get there, but I had to at least ask.

"No hospitals," he snapped. "I… haven't had the best experiences at hospitals before. Besides, even if we went, they wouldn't treat me – I don't exist, remember? But I don't need a hospital. I'm fine. It's nothing that I can't handle. And I'm not going back to bed."

Erik was being even more stubborn and belligerent than usual, and I knew that it would be best to simply let the issue drop. However, it was only a few minutes later that I found him doubled-over on the hall floor and managed to convince him that everything was _not_ fine and he _should_ go back to bed. He leaned on me heavily as I walked him back to his room.

"Are you in a lot of pain?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. Talking to Erik just made me feel better, like if he was well enough to talk then everything would be alright.

The only response that I got was a vague noise that suggested that he would have liked to just collapse and lay on the floor again.

It seemed like a miracle that we made it to his room, and I gently laid him down on the bed. Erik seemed unfocused; his skin was deathly pale, and even though he was shivering violently he was covered in a light sheen of sweat. He made no protest when I helped him change into more comfortable clothes, and even after I had made him as comfortable as possible I paced the room, wishing that I could do more to help him. I had searched the library shelves for some sort of medical dictionary or anything else that might help me know what to do, but there was nothing. I was on my own.

So I did the only thing that I could think to do and simply stayed with Erik constantly. I pulled a chair up to his bedside and sat there with him, stroking his hair like my father always did for me when I was sick. Erik was burning with fever and his pulse was racing and he seemed almost delirious, which I supposed was from a combination of the high fever, the pain, and the cravings. After helplessly watching him for a while, I noticed how uncomfortable his mask looked as the edges of it rubbed against his skin. He would be terribly angry with me later for removing it, I was sure, but now concern was eating away at me and I knew that I would do even the smallest thing to make him more comfortable.

Very, very slowly, my fingers moved to the edges of the mask as my mind tried to create a picture of what I was about to see. Everything had happened so quickly last time I had removed the mask, though, and my memories of it had become vague and blurry at best. And even then, I hadn't been as close to Erik as I was now; I hadn't seen the deformity in as much detail.

Bracing myself for the worst, I peeled away Erik's mask.

The flesh that made up the right side of his face was scarred and discolored, twisted unnaturally and in one place so thin that his skull showed through. It was shocking, though not altogether terrifying. I found that as I studied it more and more, the horror of it diminished and I began to look at Erik's face as a whole again. Soon I could not resist the urge to touch him, caress him, and I began to run my fingers along the contours of his face. Erik sighed at my touch, though it was easy to tell that he was not fully aware of what was happening. Visibly relaxing, he brought a hand up to cover one of mine, and at the simple touch my heart felt as if it had leapt into my throat.

A song suddenly entered my mind, begging to be sung. It was the song that we had been working on in our lessons for weeks now, even though I had made little progress on the difficult piece. But now it was as if something had clicked inside of me. The words made sense on a much deeper level than before, like they were the absolute truth and I felt them to my very core. The melody burned inside me, passionate and alive, and soon I found myself singing softly.

"_Love's a curious thing,_

_It often comes disguised._

_Look at love the wrong way,_

_It goes unrecognized…_

_So look with your heart,_

_And not with your eyes._

_The heart understands._

_The heart never lies._

_Believe what it feels,_

_And trust what it shows._

_Look with your heart –_

_The heart always knows._

_Love is not always beautiful,_

_Not at the start…_

_So open your arms,_

_And close your eyes tight,_

_Look with your heart,_

_And when it finds love,_

_Your heart will be right._"

I could not fathom why the song suddenly held meaning for me, why each word suddenly rand clear and true, but I knew that I had sung it now better than I ever had before.

"Perfect," Erik said faintly, making me smile.

And then I realized why it had been perfect – for the first time in a long time, I had put my heart and soul into the song. I had sung for Erik, and Erik alone.

**Meg's POV**

Although the rest of the world seemed to have just the opposite reaction, my worry grew with each passing day, and I thought of Christine more and more often. She had been missing for almost two months now. Who knows what Erik had been doing to her all that time? Mother remained confident that he would never hurt her, and she had even started to believe that, in due time, Christine might even turn up on her own. I, however, was not so optimistic. I was ready to do anything to get Christine back, even go against my mother's trust.

"Raoul!" I hollered after the boy one day when I happened to see him walking through the theatre. At first he looked at me as if he did not recognize me, but he walked over to me anyway.

"Meg, right?" he asked. I nodded. "What is it? Is there any news on Christine?"

"No," I said. "But that _is_ what I wanted to talk to you about. Your family has a lot of resources and connections, don't they?"

"Well, it's _me_, now," Raoul said. "I've sort of taken over the family business, so to speak."

"So, if I was to tell you about a very distinctive person, you would have a good chance of finding that person, right?"

"Right," Raoul said uncertainly. "But what does this have to do with Christine?"

"I know who kidnapped her," I said. And then I told him everything I knew.

**So, first of all, I apologize if this chapter isn't very accurate. I have never gone through withdrawal, nor do I know anyone who has, so I kind of just had to go off of research for that. But some good news is that there will be lots of fluff coming up in the near future. Please, please, please review!**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Hello, dear readers! It's nice to be back so soon. We hit the 100-review mark with the last chapter, which is absolutely amazing! Thank you so, so much to anyone who has ever reviewed! I love reading them so much, and I appreciate every one of them. It just really feels special to know that people take the time not only to read what I write, but also to comment on it. So thank you so much! Hope you all enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

The severity of the withdrawal symptoms seemed to peak that day; after that, things began to get better. Erik slept mostly, though it was a fevered and restless sleep that even looked uncomfortable. I could tell that he was in pain, and knowing that I couldn't do anything to really help him was killing me. I got him water when he wanted it, but the only other thing I could do was stay by his side, running my cool hands over his hot face and humming soft, soothing melodies.

When, a day or so later, Erik began to seem less ill, I gently replaced his mask and contented myself with just holding his hand. I knew he wouldn't have wanted me to see him without his mask on, so he didn't have to know that it had ever been off. A little while later, I was relieved as he opened his eyes and looked up at me, much more clear and lucid.

"How do you feel?" I asked softly, gently smoothing his hair with one hand and still holding his hand with the other.

"Like I've been run over by a truck," he groaned.

"I think that the worst is over, at least," I told him. "You weren't in good shape yesterday."

Erik sat up slightly, looking at me with surprise. "You've been here this whole time?" he asked. "You've been… taking care of me?"

"Of course I've been taking care of you!" I exclaimed, almost wanting to laugh at the absurdity of the idea that I might _not_ have taken care of him. "I've been right here next to you this whole time!" Erik continued to look at me incredulously. "What?" I asked him. "Was I supposed to just leave you lying in agony on the hall floor?"

"No," Erik said. "I'm just… surprised. Not only have you chosen to stay here with me, at least for a little while longer, but you chose to nurse the man who kidnapped you and caused your father's death."

I cringed a little at his words. "You didn't cause his death," I said. "It was an accident and I'm… I'm sure he knew what he was doing. So don't say that. Also, you… you may have kidnapped me, but I'm here now because I want to be, and that's what matters."

Erik nodded, reluctantly accepting this. "I heard you singing," he said suddenly. "It sounded wonderful. What were you doing differently from all the times we worked on that song?"

I could feel myself blushing. "I was singing like I used to," I said softly. "I was singing for you."

We were silent for a moment as my words sunk in. The phrase seemed so simple, but the air was thick with the meaning that was unsaid. Once again, I was singing for him and only him. I trusted him again. I couldn't explain the change; I only knew that it had happened. I had forgiven Erik for everything; I was letting myself care about him again, even if it was only in the slightest ways.

"Are you tired?" I asked suddenly. "I should let you rest – I'm sure you still feel awful. Can I get you anything? Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" I stood quickly, though to do what I was not yet sure, but when something held me back I looked down to see my fingers still entwined with Erik's.

"Just stay for a while longer, if you wouldn't mind," he said, not letting go of my hand. "_You_ make me feel better." I obediently sat back down, and though Erik's grip on my hand loosened, as if to let me pull my hand away, I left my hand in his. "Christine, I don't know what to say," he said after a moment.

"You don't have to say anything," I told him.

It wasn't true, though – now that he had said that, I wanted very much for him to say something so I could understand whatever he was trying to convey.

We were silent for another moment before Erik spoke, his words so sincere and vulnerable that I felt slightly shaken by them. "Thank you," he said. "For being here, I mean."

I shook my head. "You don't have to thank me for that, Erik."

"Yes, I do," Erik insisted. "You chose to come back and you saved my life. Then you chose to stay longer and take care of me, even though Lord knows I don't deserve your help. You've done nothing but sacrifice yourself for me."

"You don't deserve to be alone and in pain, either," I argued. "You might not agree, but you do deserve kindness and mercy, Erik."

"Christine, it isn't often that I thank anyone. Just accept it."

I had to smile a little at Erik's sternness. "Ok," I said. "You're welcome."

"And you're still welcome to leave whenever you please," Erik said, though his tone suggested that he like this idea much, much less than he wanted to convey.

I bit my lip. I knew that I wanted to stay, but I couldn't explain why, and I knew that Erik would not accept my answer now. "Ok," I said instead. "I'll think about it and let you know what I decide."

Erik nodded, accepting my answer but not looking entirely happy about it. We sat in silence for a few more minutes, and Erik noticed that my hand still rested in his. He pulled his hand away without speaking, resting it across his stomach, and I tried not to show the disappointment I felt, or the surprise I felt at feeling disappointment.

"You can go now if you want to, Christine," he said. "If you've been sitting here with me since yesterday, I'm sure you'd like some time to yourself to rest."

Erik's tone was almost cold, as if he expected me to leave and not come back and he didn't want to get attached to the idea of me being here. "Ok," I said simply, starting to wonder if that was the only thing I could say. "Just holler if you want anything."

**Erik's POV**

You_, you naïve girl,_ I wanted to say as I watched Christine leave. _I want you. Have I not made that clear?_ And I did want her. I wanted her to stay with me, as selfish as it was. I wanted her to want me like I wanted her. And knowing that she had stayed, knowing that she cared enough about me to take care of me, had given me a dangerous amount of hope. I tried to never allow myself to feel hope; hope inevitably ends in pain and disappointment. But now, I couldn't help it.

I let my exhausted body sink back into bed, but my mind would not let me have any rest, instead filling my head with images of various scenarios that could play out over the next few days, each more painful than the last.

Christine could leave. For all I knew, she could be packing her bags right now. And if she was wise, if she knew what was best for her, that's what she would do. Now that she knew that I was healthy and in a decent state of mind – relatively speaking, at least – her kind heart would be at ease and she could leave here with a clear conscious. And she had to be eager to be rid of me after all I had put her through. There were a million different ways that she could tell me she was leaving, and each one of them played out in my mind in excruciating clarity. Of course, she could simply leave without telling me, which seemed a much worse possibility. She could simply disappear, slip from my grasp, and I would never see her again.

I did not have the energy right now to think of what would become of me if and when Christine left. I was quite certain, though, that, some way or another, I would cease to exist. For how can night exist without day?

There was still another option, and this was somehow even more painful than the first. Christine could choose to stay. I could barely even allow myself to consider the idea; I wanted it so badly. I knew that I shouldn't want it – I shouldn't want to condemn such a pure, innocent girl to a life with me, a life of darkness and corruption. And I knew that it would never happen, anyway. That was why it was more painful to think about than the possibility of her leaving – I wanted it more than anything, even though I knew that Christine staying was an impossibility.

**So, it just so happens that I already have the next chapter written because I was so excited about it, and I think that you all are really going to love it, too. I will get that up as soon as I can, but I like to update both of my stories at once, so it depends on how quickly I can get the next chapter of Darkness, Darkness written. Please, please, please, please review!**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Happy New Year, my lovely readers! What better way to start off 2012 than with a new chapter? As always, thank you so much for the wonderful reviews. Hopefully this chapter gets the story off to a great start this year! Personally, I think this chapter is one of my favorites so far. **

**Christine's POV**

Several more days passed, and Erik asked me nothing more about whether or not I wanted to stay. It was clear that the question burned in his mind, though, and he seemed to want to ask me a few times. By now, my mind was firmly made up that I would stay, but Erik would never believe me if I just came out and told him. Actually, he might not believe me no matter how I told him. So I simply waited for him to ask me – it would be easier for him to accept when he was fully ready for an answer.

As the days went by without Erik bringing the subject up, I realized that he was probably trying to delay getting an answer because he feared what it would be. Perhaps he was also trying to get the most out of what he thought would be our last days together, keep me here as long as possible before never seeing me again. Tension hung thickly in the air whenever conversation dwindled, as though he was both bracing himself for an answer and trying to think of how to avoid getting an answer for just a little longer, and I knew that this could not go on for much longer.

I was just stepping out of the shower one morning, towel wrapped around my body, as I went to fetch some clothes out of my closet, when I looked up to see Erik entering the room. He stopped when he saw me, barely covered and with quite a bit of skin still left exposed, water slowly dripping off the ends of my hair.

"Sorry," he said immediately, his eyes falling to the ground though he made no move to leave. "I should have knocked."

"It's fine," I said, blushing a little but not feeling nearly as embarrassed as I should have. "I… I forgot to take clothes into the bathroom with me. Just give me a minute to get dressed."

Erik nodded, still trying to avoid looking at me but not entirely succeeding, and I quickly grabbed the clothes I needed and went back into the bathroom. _What's wrong with me?_ I wondered as I closed the door. _I should be humiliated by Erik seeing me like this, but instead…_ It was almost exhilarating to have Erik's eyes on me like that.

Pushing the thought from my mind, I quickly dressed in the simple jeans and tank top that I had grabbed and pulled my damp hair into a low ponytail. I reemerged from the bathroom to find Erik still waiting for me, seated on the edge of my bed, his fingers idly playing with my comforter, and I knew what he had come in to talk to me about. He still seemed hesitant to look at me when I sat down next to him, as if there was a chance that I still might not be fully clothed.

"I'm sorry," he repeated shamefully after a moment. "I didn't mean to… I would never…"

"It's fine," I interrupted. "It was just an accident. And besides, it's not like I was completely naked, or anything." I added the last part in a lighter tone, hoping it would lessen the awkwardness.

It didn't. Just the opposite, in fact. Erik shifted uncomfortably and again seemed to shy away from looking at me.

"So… how are you feeling?" I asked, glad that I had found a way to safely change the subject.

"Better than yesterday," Erik replied. "The aches and everything are pretty much gone now, but it's still very difficult."

"At least it's getting better. That's good to hear." Neither of us spoke for another minute as I waited for him to ask what I knew he had come to ask.

"Christine," Erik said finally. "I came in here to talk to you about something."

"Ok," I said, moving back to the center of the bed so I could sit more comfortably. Erik turned so he was facing me, and I waited for him to speak again. When he continued, his normally smooth and melodious voice was grave and anxious.

"I have offered to let you go back to the city, or anywhere else you'd like to go, and the offer still stands," he said. "I… I do not want to keep you here any longer. I want you to do what makes you happy. Take anything you want – clothes, books, instruments, money – anything. I can drive you back to the city, or you can drive yourself if you prefer and I can give you directions. And once you are back, you can do what you will. You can tell the police about me, about all of this. You can go out with that boy of yours every night. I will never bother you again."

"But what would you do… if I left and went back to the city?"

"I don't know," Erik admitted. "But if you still do not wish for me to die, then I can promise you that I will not die by my own hand."

I nodded and was silent for a moment, not taking the fact that this might be my last chance to go back to the city lightly. If I stayed with Erik, it might be too risky for us to ever go back.

"I want to stay," I said, softly but firmly. "I want to stay here with you, Erik."

An astonished, electric silence filled the room as Erik took in my words. "You… you are serious?" he asked, trying in vain to keep any traces of hope from his voice.

"I am serious. I want to stay with you."

"Christine, have you thought about this? Because you don't have to decide anything now. I don't want you to make any decisions that you'll regret. You can leave whenever you want."

"I have thought about it," I told him. "I've thought about very little else, in fact. And I'm not leaving. I don't want to leave, Erik."

Still, Erik looked at me with disbelief. "Why?" he asked finally, his voice filled with self-loathing. "Why would you want to stay here with me – with a deformed madman who kidnapped you out of desperation to have you to himself? Why, Christine? I've done horrible things, and I only regret some of them. I'm not a good person. I'm not… whole, or normal, or safe. You deserve a life of light and happiness, Christine, and as much as I would try, I would never be able to give you that. Why would you want to stay here with me for even a moment longer than you have to?"

I hesitated for a moment, and Erik turned away from me. I knew that he would ask me something like that, and I had been trying to think of what to tell him. The answer was quite simple, really. I cared about him. Maybe I was even in love with him. And when I thought of being with him, of staying here with him, a deep, absolute sense of peace and happiness settled within me. It felt right. Even knowing that there was at least some truth in everything that he had just said, I knew with complete certainty that I was supposed to be here with him. Trying to picture living without Erik made me feel hollow and lost.

And while that was the truth, I knew that Erik wouldn't believe a word of it, not at first. He wouldn't let himself believe it. I needed to show him that it was the truth; I needed to prove it, and now I realized how.

"Do you trust me?" I asked instead of answering his question.

"I do," Erik replied softly. I moved closer to him and gently put a hand on his masked cheek, making him meet my gaze.

"Then trust me now," I said, raising my other hand to his mask as well, my fingers moving to the edges. Instinctively, Erik's hands flew up and grasped my wrists. "Erik," I said soothingly. "Trust me."

Erik didn't move for a minute, but he finally dropped his hands with a grimace. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see my reaction, and I heard his sharp intake of breath as I pulled away the mask. The reaction that he was bracing himself for never came, though.

I boosted myself up on my knees and gently took his face in both my hands. Erik still seemed to be bracing himself when I pressed my lips to his skin.

"You're face doesn't frighten me," I whispered, punctuating the sentence with another kiss. "You are not a bad man. You are a good man. You care about me, and you create wonderful, beautiful things. You are whole to me. You are normal to me. You are safe to me. And you are all I want, all I need."

I kissed every inch of his face, regardless of whether the skin was marred or unmarred. Erik shakily brought his hands up to cover mine, to hold them to his face.

"Christine," he breathed reverently, as if I was a miracle, an angel.

I drew back slightly to meet his eyes. They were filled with tears, just as mine were, and they shone with pure hope that was almost childlike in its innocence. He started to draw away from me, but I moved with him. I wasn't finished – there was one place that I hadn't kissed yet.

Slowly, gently, I pressed my lips to his.

I couldn't explain the feeling that came over me as I kissed Erik. It just felt so perfectly right, so blissfully wonderful, and I didn't want to stop. Erik's hands moved to tenderly cup my face, his fingers burying themselves in my curls. He kissed me back, and though the kiss was filled with so much passion that it made me feel weak, it was somehow not lustful.

When we finally pulled apart, there was nothing left to say. And nothing needed to be said now. Our future seemed to stretch out endlessly before us; we would have plenty of time to talk when we needed to.

**Erik's POV**

For what could have been an eternity, Christine and I just laid back on her bed, holding each other. There were no words that would meet the significance of the moment, so we remained silent. My discarded mask still sat at the foot of the bed, and it was strange, almost discomforting, to be without it, to feel the coolness of the air and the warmth of Christine's breath on my deformity.

Christine was staying. The thought ran through my head over and over, but I could still hardly process it. I had been prepared to lose her forever so that she could be happy, and she told me that she wanted to stay with me. Christine was staying with me because she wanted to. She was no longer afraid of my face; she had touched it, kissed it, even. She had kissed me, and she had let me kiss her. And in that moment I had never felt so alive, and yet I was sure that I was dead and had somehow miraculously made it to heaven.

Beside me, Christine sighed a little and moved closer to me, resting her head on my chest. She understood. It was such a simple gesture, really, but it meant so much more to me. To us. She knew that.

"I'm staying," Christine said softly, repeating the words over and over for me to hear. "I'm not leaving. I'm staying here with you, Erik."

And somehow, not a single part of me doubted her.

**Yay! They're finally together! Of course their problems aren't completely gone, but things will be good for a while now. Prepare for a lot of fluff to make up for the angst that's coming later in the story. What did you think? Please review!**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Hello, dearest readers! As always, thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! I'm super excited because I know exactly where I'm taking this story, and it's looking like it will be around 60 chapters long! It's pretty exciting for me ;). Anyway, enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

Neither of us quite knew how to proceed after that morning. I dozed off in Erik's arms as we laid back on my bed, feeling emotionally drained despite how early in the day it was, and when I woke up a short time later he was gone. A quick search of the house brought me to the closed door of the music room, and I knew that it was best to just leave him alone when he was working on something. I was sure that he needed time to process everything that had happened, what it meant for us, just as I did.

Erik met me downstairs for dinner, though neither of us knew quite what to say to the other. When we sat down at the table, though, I noticed that he had put his mask back on, and I realized that the expressionless, lifeless thing made me almost uncomfortable.

"Erik, would you please take off the mask?" I requested gently. "It must be difficult to eat with it on."

Erik paused and looked at me uncertainly. "I would rather have difficulty eating than have you lose your appetite," he said finally, decisively.

"Erik, please," I insisted. "Your face doesn't bother me."

He seemed to think about it for a moment before he reluctantly reached up and removed his mask, not meeting my eyes as he did so.

"Much better," I said, smiling at him as he placed the mask down on the table.

Confusion showed in Erik's expression. "How could you think that this," he gestured to the marred side of his face, "is an improvement over anything?"

I shrugged. "It's you," I said simply.

Conversation dwindled after that, and I could tell that Erik was fearful that at any moment I would tell him in disgust to put the mask back on. I wished that I could make him feel more comfortable, but I knew that it would be a long time before I could – I had a lifetime of damage to undo. We finished eating in silence before Erik hesitantly looked up at me.

"We did not have a lesson today," he said. "Would you like to have one now?"

"Sure. That sounds nice."

As Erik and I walked to the music room, I felt his hand brush mine. Blushing, the shade of pink that I was sure my face was deepened into red when I realized how silly I felt. Nothing had really changed in our relationship, had it? The only difference was that now he knew that I cared about him, and I knew how much he cared about me. Why was that enough to make even the slightest touch more tentative?

I frowned, though, when I saw that he carried his mask in his other hand. At least I had convinced him to take it off for now, but I had a feeling that it would be a battle I would fight every day until I could somehow convince him that I truly did not care about his face. So I decided to start now and entwined my fingers with his, reassuringly running my thumb over the back of his hand. I could tell by his barely-audible sigh that just because he knew that I cared about him did not mean that he fully believed it, nor did it mean that anything would be easy for us. If anything, things would be even more difficult now.

Erik had me sing through the song we had been working on, and just like before, I put my heart and soul into it as if the music itself ran through my veins. And I sang for Erik; I sang to make him proud. The song ended, the final chords ringing from the piano, and Erik turned to me.

"That was beautiful," he said. "I think you've got it."

This was very high praise coming from Erik, and it made me grin proudly and blush modestly at the same time. "Thank you," I managed to say quietly. "What should we work on next, then?"

"I… I have a duet that I've wanted to work on for some time. I think that it would sound marvelous with your voice. Would you like to take a look at it?"

"I'd love to look at it," I said, though truly I was more eager for the opportunity to sing with Erik than I was to sing the piece.

Until, that is, Erik handed me the handwritten music. Glancing over it, I could tell that it was a very difficult song, but that wasn't what held my attention the most. The lyrics made me blush furiously, despite my best attempts to hide it; even the notes written on the paper seemed sensuous and seductive.

"I've never heard of this song," I said after looking over it for another moment.

"Of course you haven't," Erik said, almost scoffing. "I only wrote it recently."

"You wrote this?" I asked incredulously, looking down at the complicated music in my hands.

Erik nodded. "As part of my opera, but I am quite eager to hear it sung with your voice," he confessed.

"I don't know if I can sing something so hard, but I'll try my best."

Erik played a few chords on the piano before beginning the piece.

"_You have come here_

_In pursuit of your deepest urge,_

_In pursuit of that wish,_

_Which 'till now has been_

_Silent, silent…_

_I have brought you_

_That our passions may fuse and merge –_

_In your mind _

_You've already succumbed to me,_

_Dropped all defenses,_

_Completely succumbed to me –_

_Now you are here with me:_

_No second thoughts, you've_

_Decided, decided…"_

Erik's voice was rich and melodious, undoubtedly the most magnificent, unearthly voice I had ever heard, and when he paused I realized that instead of following along in the music, I had been watching him, entranced. Hoping that he hadn't noticed, I quickly looked down at the music and found my place.

As soon as Erik began to sing again, though, I knew there was no hope of being able to focus on the music I held. I immediately became lost in his voice. The words alone were suggestive enough, and Erik's voice made them unfairly seductive. My head spun and my pulse quickened, and it took all of my willpower to keep the images that the song created from playing through my mind. I became so lost in the music that it was several seconds before I noticed it had stopped and realized that Erik was waiting for me to come in. Embarrassed, I found my entrance as quickly as I could, blushing when I saw Erik watching me with an amused expression.

"_You have brought me_

_To that moment where words run dry,_

_To that moment where speech_

_Disappears into_

_Silence, silence…_

_I have come here,_

_Hardly knowing the reason why…_

_In my mind_

_I've already imagined_

_Our bodies entwining,_

_Defenseless and silent –_

_And now I am here with you:_

_No second thoughts, I've_

_Decided, decided…"_

As I sang, I found myself getting lost in the music once more, caught up in the moment, absorbed in the passionate melody. Before I realized what I was doing, I had come to stand directly behind Erik and I ran my hands down the length of his arms, pressing my chest into his back. Erik's hands paused on the keys when he felt this contact, and he clutched my hands when they reached his, but I hardly noticed that I was now without piano accompaniment; I was too wrapped up in the feeling of Erik's body against mine, and the song that I sang now felt strangely natural as the melody consumed me.

My lips brushed against his neck as I sang, and I could feel his body grow rigid at my touch. He turned to face me and we sang the impassioned climax together, his hands firmly on my hips as mine moved across his shoulders and chest.

As Erik drew me closer to him our song ended in no more than a hoarse whisper. I could feel the frantic beating of his heart against my chest, and his breath came in ragged gasps against my neck, mirroring my own struggle for breath. Minutes passed, and both our heads began to clear as the music that we felt faded away. Suddenly feeling far too aware of Erik and the effect he was having on me, I looked down modestly, my face flushed.

Erik cleared his throat. "…Maybe that wasn't the best idea."

I laughed a little. "Maybe not. Maybe I should just go to bed before I can embarrass myself anymore."

Erik chuckled slightly, his laugh just as melodious as his voice. "Goodnight, then, Christine."

"Goodnight, Erik."

I hesitated, somewhat awkwardly, before Erik pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead. His lips lingered on my skin, and before he could pull away I tilted my head up so my lips brushed his. The touch was brief, but perhaps that was for the best, at least until we could better figure out where we stood. Still, it was with reluctance that we pulled away from each other.

"Goodnight," I said again.

"Sleep well, angel," Erik replied softly.

With that, I slipped out into the darkened hall, a small smile playing on the edges of my lips.

**Meg's POV**

It was almost a week before I heard from Raoul again.

I had told him everything I knew, and though he listened to me attentively I realized that what I was saying must have sounded completely insane. A masked man kidnapping the young girl with whom he had fallen madly in love even though she loved another? It sounded more like the plot of a soap opera than anything that would ever happen in real life.

When I finished, though, Raoul seemed to contemplate it all very seriously. It was a moment before he looked back up at me, his eyes alight with interest, which I found a little strange considering I had just given him details about the events that led to his girlfriend's kidnapping.

"So what do you think?" I asked. "Should we take this information to the police? Does it help at all?"

"Don't take it to the police," Raoul said. "The fewer people who get involved in this, the better. I do think that it will help us, though. And you can't tell me anything more about this masked man, this… Erik?"

"All I know is that he has been tutoring Christine for years, and I'm sure that he is the one behind all this Opera Ghost stuff, including the death of that stagehand. He has to be – it just makes sense. I think that Mother knows more about him, but she won't tell me. And please don't ask her, because then she'll know that I told you and she'll be furious with me."

"But you don't think that she's aiding him, do you? You don't think that she's his accomplice?"

I shook my head. "She would never help him kidnap Christine."

Raoul had said that he would get back to me once he knew something more, and my heart was racing when I finally went to meet him at the coffee shop he had suggested. I spotted him quickly, seated at a table near the back, and I sat down across from him.

"So," I said. "Good news?"

Raoul nodded, taking a sip from the cup of coffee that sat in front of him. "I have spoken with the people who work for me; I told them exactly what you told me. Since Erik is a very… distinctive person, they will notice if he goes anywhere public or is seen by anyone, and they will inform us immediately."

"Do you think that we have a chance at finding her, then?"

"I know we'll find her," Raoul said firmly. "And then we'll make that bastard pay for everything he's done."

I felt a slight chill go down my spine at Raoul's ominous words. I didn't want anyone to get hurt; I just wanted Christine safe at home. But I supposed that if there was a price to pay for that safety, so be it. We would simply do what we had to do.

**Please, please, please review! It'll be a busy week for me, but I really hope to update at least once or twice, and nothing motivates me like reviews!**


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: Hello, everyone! As always, thank you so, so much for the wonderful reviews! They're what make me write when I want to keep getting distracted by a million other things (and speaking of getting distracted, John Green's new book, **_**The Fault in our Stars**_**, came out and took about a day and a half away from writing this week, but it was amazing and you should definitely look into reading it). Anyway, I'm just going to end this author's note before it gets too terribly off-topic and rambling. Enjoy the chapter!**

**Erik's POV**

Having already established some sort of routine helped keep everything at least somewhat normal, but everything between Christine and me was so different now, and during those first few days we had quite a bit of difficulty figuring out where we stood. Suddenly every touch seemed electric, and I felt an even stronger pull to her than before, if that was possible. I felt the need to be constantly at her side, whether this need was protective or possessive, but I was unsure how much I should give in to this need.

Christine, too, seemed unsure about us. She was firm about wanting me to keep my mask off, though I could still not understand why she would want to see my hideous face, but she seemed as confused as me when it came to everything else.

She had kissed me when she told me that she was staying. It had been simple and sweet and innocent, but it was still a kiss. Did she expect me to kiss her now? Did she _want_ me to? Those first days were filled with somewhat awkward embraces and chaste kisses on the cheek, but I could not remember ever being more content – I had never dared to even dream that one day I might be given this kind of acceptance, this kind of companionship.

Knowing this, I couldn't help but smile slightly as I watched her sitting on the settee in her room. She was completely unaware of my presence as I lingered in the doorway. I normally tried not to watch her like this, but now she presented such a beautiful picture that I couldn't help but stand back and watch for a moment. Her dark curls hung down her back and over her shoulders, nearly covering the thin black cardigan that she wore over a plain white dress. She held a book in her hands, but her eyes were focused on the window, watching the rain hit the glass.

I knocked lightly on the doorframe, chuckling when Christine jumped at the noise. "Sorry to disturb you," I said, walking to stand near her. "You looked deep in thought."

Christine smiled beautifully and shook her head. "Not really," she laughed. "I'm just bored."

"Well, what would you like to do?"

Her eyes lit up. "Would you go outside with me, Erik?"

"Now? Christine, it's pouring out there, if you haven't noticed. You'd be soaked through the moment you stepped out the door."

"But it's been raining for three days," Christine moaned dramatically. "It doesn't look like it's going to stop anytime soon, and I need some fresh air. Please, Erik? Haven't you ever played in the rain?"

"I've spent plenty of my life out in the rain. And besides, it's freezing outside! If you don't go into hypothermic shock, you'll catch your death of pneumonia."

"Come on, Erik," Christine laughed, taking both of my hands in hers and leading me out of the room. "I'm going to make sure you experience all of the fun aspects of childhood that you never experienced, starting with going out in the pouring rain."

**Christine's POV**

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply as Erik and I stepped out onto the covered porch. The air was clean and moist and filled with the fresh scent that comes only with rain. Letting my hands fall from Erik's, I stepped out from under the cover of the porch and walked out onto the grass, the wet blades tickling my bare feet. Erik was right – the rain was so cold that it stung as it hit the bare skin of my face and legs. It felt wonderful, though, after staying indoors for so long. I tilted my head back to let the rain fully hit my face and neck and chest.

"Come on, Erik," I called to him, looking back at the porch where he stood watching me. "It feels wonderful!"

Erik stepped off of the porch and walked towards me, pausing when he was still a few steps away. Closing his eyes and sighing slightly, he just stood there, and I realized how good the air and rain must have felt on his face after wearing that mask all of the time for so much of his life. Now it was my turn to stand back and watch him for a moment. He looked so serene as he stood there, and I could even see a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

While Erik's eyes were still closed, I took the last few steps to close the gap between us and, standing up on the tips of my toes, lightly pressed my lips to his. I stepped back before he could respond, though, grinning when I saw the mild frustration in his expression. Still grinning and laughing, I twirled in a circle with my arms spread wide, enjoying the feeling of the water running down my skin. My cardigan, now drenched, clung to my arms and waist, and the skirt of my dress clung to my legs. Erik came to stand beside me, pushing back the strands of hair that stuck to my face.

"What did I tell you?" he murmured affectionately. "You're already soaked."

"Mmm, but it feels so nice to be out here. When the weather warms up a little more I'd love for you to show me everything that's out here."

"You look cold," Erik said, running his hands down my arms.

"I am cold," I admitted. "You were right about it being freezing."

"Then perhaps this is an activity best saved for summer when the rain is warm, hmm?" he chuckled. "Are you ready to go inside?"

I nodded and let Erik lead me in, his hand lightly resting on the small of my back. The house was warm, and I was very grateful for that, but I still shivered as I stood dripping in the entryway. I looked to Erik, wanting to thank him for humoring me, but I found my eyes immediately drawn to the way that his white collared shirt, made just slightly sheer by the rain, clung to his lean but fit frame. I felt my pulse quicken, and I blushed furiously when he met my eyes.

"You should change," Erik said softly, running his eyes over me. "…Get those wet clothes off before you get chilled."

When Erik looked up and met my gaze again, his eyes were filled with something that I wasn't sure I could identify, but I imagined that my eyes betrayed a similar emotion, for it looked much like what I felt. The look he gave me sent a shiver up my spine, and I knew that it wasn't from the cold. Instead of leaving to change like he had told me to, I just stood there dumbly and looked at Erik, unsure of what to do.

For a moment neither of us moved – I wasn't even sure if I was breathing – and then Erik took a few deliberate steps to close the space between us. Very gently, he eased my wet cardigan over my shoulders and off of my arms. I let it fall to the floor, far too focused on the feeling of Erik removing my clothing to have any hope of thinking about anything else. His eyes remained on me, and I knew that the dress was clinging tightly to my body; perhaps the wet fabric even made my underwear slightly visible.

"You're soaked, too," I said quietly, running a hand across his chest.

Erik only nodded, and before I knew what I was doing my fingers were working at the buttons down the front of his shirt and removing the garment. Unlike the last few days, there was no awkwardness now – we were both too caught up to think anything of decency or shyness. Without any hesitation, Erik lowered his lips to mine.

I kissed him back fervently, unable to think of anything but Erik. I wrapped my arms around his neck and threaded my fingers through his hair, and Erik held me tightly to him. When I felt my feet lift off the ground, I wrapped my legs around his waist, which only made out bodies press impossibly closer. A moan escaped Erik's lips as my lips moved to his neck, and he carried me up the stairs and into my room where he laid me down on the bed.

When Erik spoke again, it could have been minutes or hours or days later for all I could tell – my head spun, and my body and mind cried out for nothing but him.

"We should stop," he gasped when out lips briefly broke apart. It was clear that he didn't really want that, though, and I was prepared to take full advantage of that weakness.

"No," I said, trailing my lips along his bare shoulders. "We really shouldn't."

"Christine," Erik groaned warningly, his voice thick with desire. "You're not making this any easier. We should stop now because if we don't then I won't be able to stop at all."

I knew that I should have blushed at the bluntness of this comment, but I felt bold and, frankly, not stopping was really sounding like the more preferable option. I also knew, though, that Erik was completely serious, and he was right. Sighing, I pulled away from him with great reluctance, both of us breathing heavily.

"I suppose I should actually let you change, now," Erik sighed, standing to leave after another moment.

"Erik," I called, making him pause in the doorway. I realized that I didn't have any words, though, and simply smiled at him. Erik seemed to understand and smiled genuinely back at me before pulling the door shut to give me my privacy.

There was no more awkwardness between us after that.

**So… I happen to have some free time this week, as well as a few pre-written chapters. Also, I'm really tired, and that kind of brings out my evil side. So I think we should play a game: No matter what, I will update again next weekend. However, if this chapter gets 5 or more reviews, I will also update on Wednesday this week. If it gets 10 reviews, I will update on Tuesday and Thursday this week, as well as next weekend. And if it gets more than 10 reviews, then you guys are just awesome and I'll do all that plus write an extra-special chapter just for you. So it's up to you guys! **


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: Hello, my dear readers! It's Wednesday, and thanks to all your wonderful reviews, we get a new chapter today! I cannot believe that we've hit 30 chapters. This chapter should be extra special, especially since I was working on it instead of studying for my calculus test tomorrow. Enjoy!**

**Christine's POV**

The morning seemed usual enough when I woke up, and even while I showered and dressed; it wasn't until I entered the dining room, where Erik was waiting for me, that I noticed anything abnormal. The room was decorated with light pink streamers, and a delicious-looking breakfast was laid out for me at my place at the table. Erik was sitting back casually in his chair, smirking at my surprised and confused expression.

"What's all this for?" I asked him.

Erik leaned forward slightly in his chair, an amused look on his unmasked face. "Have you not been keeping track of how long you've been here, Christine?" he asked instead of answering my question. I hated it when people answer a question with another question.

"Well, I tried to at first, but the days started blurring together and I lost count, and then it didn't seem to matter much." Erik continued to watch me as I tried hard to think of how long I had been here, what day it could be.

"You still don't know? I'll give you a hint: you've been here about two and a half months."

Suddenly it clicked in my mind. "Oh! It's… it's my birthday, isn't it?"

Erik chuckled at my delight upon realizing this. "Indeed it is. Happy birthday, my dear. And remind me later to get you a calendar."

I went over to hug him, pressing a kiss to his lips, and pulled my plate of food over so I could ignore my own seat to sit on his lap. "You didn't have to do this for me, you know," I laughed between bites. "I wouldn't even have noticed."

Erik scoffed. "I couldn't have just ignored your birthday; even if _you_ forgot about it," I could feel his teasing smile as he pressed his lips to my neck, "_I_ didn't forget."

The day passed much the same as any other as we worked on Erik's music late into the afternoon. Our lessons had become longer, but we seemed to work on music less and less each time. We always ended up just talking and touching and kissing until we eventually conceded that there was no way we would be able to get back to focusing on music and ended the lesson. This new relationship between us was exciting and intoxicating and terrifying all at once, and we were both eager to explore it, to explore our boundaries. With each day we grew closer together, and the boldness of our caresses had started to grow as well.

There was no denying that I was in love with him, I realized after we had finally given up on our lesson that day. I was very much in love with him, despite everything that had happened that could (and perhaps should) have kept us apart, and there was no trying to tell myself otherwise. Now I just needed to find the right time to tell Erik.

He had told me to dress nicely for dinner that night, and when I came downstairs to find him looking as dashing as ever in an all-black suit, I figured that a romantic dinner was the last of my birthday surprises. I realized how wrong I was, though, when Erik led me into the sitting room after we ate.

"Erik, you shouldn't have," I breathed.

The first thing that I noticed was that the single chair that had once solely inhabited the room now sat in a different spot, replaced by a small but beautifully crafted sofa. The second thing that I noticed was the hefty pile of colorfully-wrapped boxes that sat in the center of the room.

"Yes, I should have," Erik said, unable to fully hide his pride in his surprise for me. "You deserve something special."

Still, I looked at him uncertainly.

"I wasn't sure what exactly you wanted," he said. "So I just got you everything I thought you'd like. And Christine, I know that you haven't had a proper birthday since you were seven. Just let me do this for you."

The first part of this was a lie just to justify the gifts to me – Erik knew me better than I knew myself sometimes, and I was sure that he knew exactly what I liked. I was about to protest that I was sure he hadn't had a proper birthday, either, when I realized that I really hadn't celebrated my birthday in a long time. Money had tended to be tight at the Girys', and I didn't even _want_ to celebrate my birthday for years after my father died because it reminded me too much of him. Finally I sighed in acceptance, and Erik led me to the sofa with a slight smirk, clearly pleased that the effort he had made would be appreciated.

There were books and beautiful clothes and even a cello of my own to practice on. The last box, a long and narrow velvet box, contained an elegant diamond necklace with a rose-shaped pendant, which Erik fastened for me with a kiss to the back of my neck.

"Thank you, Erik," I said, pressing my lips to his. "This is all wonderful. It's too much, but it's wonderful."

"There is one last thing," Erik admitted, and I rolled my eyes. "I have to go get it. Just wait here and close your eyes."

I did as Erik said and heard him get up and leave briefly, returning a moment later.

"Are your eyes still closed?"

"They are."

I heard Erik come to stand in from of me. "Alright, my dear. Open your eyes."

I let out a cry of delight as soon as I opened my eyes. In his hands, Erik held the most adorable, fluffy Siamese kitten I had ever seen. "Oh! Erik!"

Erik handed me the tiny mass of fur, and I smiled as I looked into the kitten's bright blue eyes. "Do you like her?"

"She's adorable! She's the cutest thing I've ever seen!" I gave Erik a kiss on the cheek before quickly returning my attention to her. "Does she have a name?"

Erik shook his head. "That's for you to decide. I'm glad you like her – I thought you might like some company while I'm finishing my opera."

The kitten's timid mewing immediately brought my full attention back to her, and I heard Erik chuckle at my obvious fondness for her as he took a seat in the chair to watch me.

**Erik's POV**

"I am beginning to get jealous of that thing already," I muttered when, almost an hour later, Christine still sat in the same spot, seemingly unable to focus on anything but that kitten.

Evidently she heard my remark, though, because she then said laughingly, "Oh, Erik, don't be jealous. There's no competition – nothing else in the world could possibly be this aggressively adorable!"

I rolled my eyes at her, and she smirked teasingly.

"However," Christine continued. "It looks like little Ayesha is falling asleep here in my lap, so I'll only be a moment longer. Just let me put her in her cat basket, and then I'm all yours."

"You named her Ayesha?"

"I think it's a pretty name. What do you think?"

"I think it's a perfect name, Christine," I said, watching as she gently placed Ayesha in the basket near the fireplace.

"Thank you for today, Erik," she said softly, coming over to sit on my lap – a habit that she had taken to lately and that I did not mind at all – and draping her arms around my neck. "It was perfect. This was the first time I've really celebrated in, well, a long time."

I pressed a light kiss to her lips, and she moved with me when I moved to pull away, deepening the embrace. I wanted to tell her that I would do anything to make her happy. I wanted to tell her that it had been a perfect day for me, too – that I had shared her happiness simply by seeing that childlike joy in her eyes again. But all I could focus on now was the feeling of her mouth against mine, a smile still on her face, her tiny but tempting body pressed against mine.

**What do you think? Did you like the Kay reference? Please review – I will update for sure this weekend, but if I get enough feedback I might be persuaded to update before then, too…**


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: Hello, everyone! I just want to thank you all for the wonderful reviews – they never fail to brighten my day! Enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

"Christine?"

I looked up to meet Erik's eyes, mildly curious how long he had been standing there while I absent-mindedly stroked Ayesha, who was curled up sleeping on my lap.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," I said immediately. Erik continued to look at me doubtfully, though, his eyes filled with concern, and I knew that I would not fool him in the slightest. "Only… no, it doesn't matter."

"Christine, if anything is wrong, just tell me," Erik insisted. His voice revealed the faintest hints of desperation, and I realized that I was worrying him.

"Nothing is wrong," I promised, laying a hand on his arm. "I just… I just miss Meg and Mrs. Giry, I guess." I continued quickly when I saw Erik's slightly panicked look. "Of course I don't want to leave, though. And I know that it's too much of a risk for us to go into the city because someone could recognize me, which is why it doesn't matter."

Erik regarded me silently for a moment. "Write what you wish to say to them," he said after a second had passed. "I can get it to the Girys without being seen, and it would be the easiest, least traceable way to communicate for now. Someday you will see them again, Christine. If it's what you want, I promise you. But for now, I believe this would be the safest way."

"Thank you, Erik," I said, picking Ayesha up off my lap so I could stand and press a kiss to Erik's lips. "But are you sure that it will be safe? You won't be in danger, will you?"

Erik smirked. "Of course it will be completely safe," he said. "I am still the Phantom of the Opera, after all. I will not be seen if I do not want to be."

When, that night, I had written my letter, I found Erik already waiting for me. I handed him the folded piece of paper, but when he moved to pull away I held on tightly to his hand. "Please be careful," I pleaded.

Erik chuckled and kissed my forehead. "You have no reason to worry, my dear. I will be back by morning, at the absolute latest."

He saw the concern still evident in my expression and affectionately brushed my hair away from my face. I considered telling him that I _did_ have a reason to worry; I considered telling him that I loved him and needed him to be here with me. But instead I said nothing and kissed him slowly, lingeringly.

"Just be careful," I said again. "If you come back and you've been in any sort of trouble, I'll never forgive you."

Even as I watched him leave, I knew that everything would be fine – he wouldn't let himself get into any trouble. He would slip into the city and then back out, going completely unseen. Still, I waited by the door all night until the sun was just beginning to rise and I heard the car pull up the drive. Erik had barely stepped out when I ran and flung myself into his arms like a child, making him promise never to leave again.

**Meg's POV**

I walked into the kitchen that morning to see Mother leaning against the counter, holding a sheet of paper and contemplatively sipping her coffee. "Meg," she said before I could so much as say good morning. "This was slipped under our door last night. I think you might want to read it."

"What is it?" I asked, but my question was answered the moment I saw the familiar handwriting on the page. "It's from Christine!" I gasped. "Mother, could she have been here?"

Mother shook her head. "Read it."

_Dear Mrs. Giry and Meg,_ it read.

_ I'm not quite sure how to say what I want to say, and I know that you probably won't believe me anyway. It's hard to understand – I don't quite understand it myself. But first, I promise that no one is forcing me to write this letter to you. There's no one looking over my shoulder telling me what to write, and if Erik reads this before delivering it to you, that's fine because it does not contain any sort of secret plea for help or anything like that._

_ In fact, no one is forcing me to do anything. I know that this will probably be hard for you to believe, but I am writing to tell you that I am happy. Yes, Erik did kidnap me, but about a month ago he told me that if I wanted to go, I could. I made my choice, and I am here with him now because I want to be. Please believe me when I say that I am perfectly safe and that Erik is nothing but kind to me. I don't want you worrying about me when there's no reason to worry._

_ Someday, when we see each other again, maybe I can explain everything. Maybe then I can explain how I've always cared for him, and how I care for him now. And we will see each other again because I love you both very much and I miss you, but I don't know when that day will be – it will have to be when things are not so risky. If someone recognized me on the streets, they would take me away from Erik, and if they were to find Erik he would go to jail. We can't meet yet, but I promise we will._

_ For now, though, pleas know that I am happy and safe, and that I am where I want to be, where I need to be. It has been three months, and I know that Erik was careful not to leave any traces of our presence that could lead anyone to us, so I doubt that the police are still looking for me. If they are, please tell them to stop – they would not find me even if I wanted to be found. I have to give Erik this letter now so he can deliver it to you, so just remember that I love and miss you, but I am very happy._

_All my love,_

_ Christine_

I looked up at Mother once I had read and reread the letter. "What do you think?"

"The letter is in her handwriting, and she says she is safe," Mother said. "She even talks about Erik. I have no reason not to believe that, if nothing else, she really is safe."

"But what if there's something more?" I asked, scanning the letter again. "What if it's just the opposite of everything she said but she couldn't tell us?" My mind was already filling with horrible scenes of what could be happening to Christine.

Mother shook her head. "I don't know, Meg. I've always believed that she would be safe with Erik, but… it does seem unlikely that she would be with him now simply because she wants to. I don't know what to think, but there's no way to know for sure. We can at least take comfort in the fact that she was able to write us at all."

That afternoon I showed the letter to Raoul. His brow creased as he read it, and his eyes darted across the lines over and over, sure that he must have missed something.

"Well?" I asked after a few minutes. "Do you think that she might really be safe?"

"That bastard got into the city and out again without being seen," Raoul muttered under his breath.

I hadn't even thought about that, but I was more concerned about Christine at the moment than anything else. "Raoul, the letter," I reminded him.

Raoul shook his head gravely. "Erik probably made her write this," he said, the hatred in his voice so strong that it surprised me. "That line about how he hasn't forced her to do anything? That just proves it. And God knows what else he's forced on her. You said your mother told you that he's got some sort of sick feelings for Christine, right?"

I nodded, feeling slightly sick at the bluntness of the insinuation. Of course I knew that Raoul was probably right, but I wanted so badly to believe the letter, believe that my best friend really was happy and safe.

"Yes, he made her write this," Raoul continued. "He wants us to stop looking – he wants to keep her. But we'll find her. And when we do, Erik will die."

**Dun dun dun! Don't worry, there's still more E/C fluff to come! What do you think? Please review!**


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: Hello again, lovely readers! Thank you so much for your feedback on the last chapter – it made me want to update again! Enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

"Christine, would you care to accompany me into town today?"

I looked up from my breakfast, surprised by the request. "I didn't know there was even a town nearby."

"It's very small," Erik said. "And I think it would be safe enough – it _has_ been over three months, now."

"Well, if you're sure, I'd love to go into town with you."

We left after breakfast. It felt strange being in the car, driving down the road with Erik as if it was the most normal thing in the world and watching the only place I had seen for three months disappear behind us. And as strange as it sounded, I was a bit frightened. My unchanging surroundings felt secure – I knew that when I was there, it was only Erik and me and we were safe. But now my surroundings were changing before my eyes. I didn't know where we were. And soon there would be other people.

Erik was right – the town was very small, and it had a very isolated feel. Compared to New York, it wouldn't have felt like more than a few small buildings, hardly anything worth notice. Still, there was more hustle and bustle than I had seen in three months, and I held tightly to Erik's hand as we walked.

"I have a couple errands that I have to run," Erik told me. "Is there anything you want?"

"No, I'm fine," I said, even though I had made us stop and look in the window of every shop we had passed so far. Mostly, I just felt uncomfortable, and the thought of being anywhere without Erik by my side, even for a moment, was mildly terrifying.

It was hard to imagine what it would be like to go back to the city after being so isolated for such a long time. Even this town, as small as it was, felt a little overwhelming. And people were looking at us. They didn't seem concerned, and there were no signs that anyone recognized me as the girl who had been kidnapped from New York City over three months ago. But people looked. They stared at the tall masked man and the young girl who clung to him with poorly veiled curiosity. Erik didn't seem to notice, or at least he pretended not to. Maybe he was used to it.

"How can people be so rude?" I asked quietly when we were relatively alone. "They just stare. They don't even try to hide it."

"Does it bother you to be seen with me?"

"Of course not, but it does bother me that people are being so rude."

"I've been gawked at my whole life, Christine," Erik said. "Staring at me is the very least people have done, and I've found that it's quiet harmless compared to other things. I try not to notice it."

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, knowing that, even now, I could not even begin to understand how horrible people had been to Erik.

"You don't have to walk with me if you don't want to be stared at," Erik suggested. "I could just meet you back at the car later."

"No," I said, tightening my grip on Erik's hand. "I don't care if people look at me."

As we walked, though, the stares still bothered me, and several times I met their eyes with an intense glare of my own until they finally looked away.

"I like it better when it's just us," I told Erik decidedly.

Erik chuckled. "It's not this bad, usually," he said. "When I need to come into town for supplies, I normally come really late or really early, while you're asleep. There are fewer people out then, and I can pick up my order largely unnoticed."

"I do like being out with you, though," I said, smiling up at him. "Aside from all the stupid people, this is nice."

Erik and I stayed in town late into the afternoon, and when we made it back to the car I was so worn out that I practically fell into my seat. Erik noticed my exhaustion and smiled at me.

"You must be tired," he said, still watching me affectionately. "You haven't been out like this in quite a while."

"All the activity was a bit of a shock," I admitted. "And it was very tiring. But thank you for taking me out."

We had barely been driving for a few minutes when I dozed off, my head resting against the window, as we returned to the familiar place that I just realized I had started to think of as home.

**Meg's POV**

When Raoul had called me that morning, his voice had sounded urgent and excited and agitated all at once. But now, as I sat in the coffee shop still waiting for him nearly half an hour after he said he would be there, I wondered if I had misinterpreted it and he wasn't in any hurry to see me at all. What would keep him like this if he had such pressing news to tell me? By the time Raoul leisurely walked in, I was ready to jump out of my chair and run to him and find out what news he had. When he sat down in the chair across from me I was nearly bouncing up and down with anticipation.

"Well, what is it? You sounded like it was something important when you called me," I said, not even caring anymore what had made him so late.

"My men hear about a masked man and a young woman being seen in some town about half a day from here," Raoul said. "They weren't able to find out which way they left town, but it gives us an area to watch more closely."

"That's great!" I exclaimed. "And people actually saw them? They saw Christine and she seemed alright?"

"Apparently," Raoul said. "But the people my men talked to took more notice of the masked man than anything else."

"That's still good news, though, right? It means she's alive and at least fairly well for no one to notice anything abnormal about her."

Raoul nodded. "We're getting close," he said, almost to himself. "We'll have Erik soon."

Had I been paying more attention to him, the darkness in his tone might have worried me. I might have noticed that this had become somewhat of an obsession for him, and a very dangerous one at that. I might have realized that he seemed more focused on exacting revenge than on making sure Christine was safe. But I was too distracted by this good news. My best friend was alive and well enough to be out in public. And all I could think about was how wonderful it would be to have her safely back at home.

**What do you think? I'll make basically the same deal as last time: if we get five or more reviews for this chapter, I'll update again on Thursday and not just on the weekend. Which means everyone should review! **


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: Hello again! To thank you for all the wonderful reviews, I have a new chapter for you! Enjoy!**

**Christine's POV**

_ It was dark. The darkness was thick and heavy, almost a tangible thing; it felt as though it would easily smother any light that tried to penetrate it. The darkness was absolute. I tried to gain some sense of my surroundings. I flailed my arms around, blind in the dark, searching. But I found no objects, no walls, no ceiling. There wasn't even a floor beneath my feet._

_ "Erik!" I tried to call out, but the void swallowed up my voice, silenced it. Still I called out over and over until my voice was hoarse and my throat hurt, hoping that somehow he would be able to hear me._

_ He didn't come, though, and I began to grow afraid. I was alone in the darkness, and Erik wasn't coming. No, it wasn't that he wouldn't come for me. He couldn't come for me. But why couldn't he? Where was Erik? It was then that I became aware of a dripping sound – the only noise in this dark, empty place. I focused hard on the steady drip, drip, drip, as I tried to figure out where it was coming from. My hands were wet, I realized. There was water dripping from my hands._

_ Suddenly I could see through the darkness. My eyes cast a strange, eerie light so that I could just make out the shapes of things. Strange shadows surrounded me, sometimes coming frighteningly close, sometimes reaching out to me. I looked down to see the glint of the water drops below me, shining iridescently. The drops had fallen into a line that stretched out before me. I couldn't see the end, so I followed the trail through the shadows._

_ The trail of drops lead to a dark mass that I couldn't quite make out, as if my vision blurred when I tried to look at it, but I somehow knew that this was Erik. I opened my mouth to call his name, but my voice wouldn't come out. So instead I reached out to touch him._

_ It was as if someone had flipped a light switch, and all of a sudden everything was so bright that it hurt. I saw red, more poignant and bright than I had ever seen before, so bright that it stood out against everything else like it was glowing. I saw that the glistening drops on the ground were red, as was the water on my hands, and I realized with cold dread that it wasn't water._

_ Forcing my eyes to move to Erik, I found that I could see him clearly in the bright light. His eyes were wide and unblinking, his body rigid. Blood still ran from the wound on his chest – the same blood that was splattered in drops on the ground. The same blood that covered my hands. And suddenly it was running down my face and neck and back, dripping off the ends of my hair. I tried to wipe it away, but it kept flowing. Soon the shadows, still there in the blinding light, began to draw nearer, surrounding me, reaching out to grab me._

With a gasp my eyes flew open, darting around the dark room for a panicked few seconds as my mind caught up. I began to recognize the familiar sights of my bedroom, and it was only after a minute that my heart began to slow and my body relaxed again. The dream was still vivid in my mind, though, terrifying and confusing. I tried to roll over and go back to sleep. _It was only a dream,_ I told myself. _It wasn't real. It can't hurt me._ But every time I closed my eyes, I saw Erik's eyes like they were in my dream, staring up at me lifelessly. I remembered the sickening feeling of being covered in his blood as if it had been real. And the shadows that had been closing in around me…

To say that I was unsettled by the dream would have been a huge understatement. I was terrified. I knew that there could be no truth to it, of course, but it had still shaken me badly. I tossed and turned for who knows how long, but I got no closer to sleep. If anything, I just became more frightened. Finally, I climbed out of my bed and slipped silently out of the room and down the darkened hallway.

**Erik's POV**

"Erik?"

When I heard Christine's voice whispering my name, I knew I must still be dreaming. But then I heard her take a few quiet steps forward and say again, "Erik?"

I sat up groggily, trying to get my mind to focus. Christine stood just a few steps away, watching me nervously. "Christine?" I asked, still unable to figure out why she would be here at this ungodly early hour. "Is everything ok?"

"I had a nightmare," she said softly.

My eyes had adjusted now, and I could see more clearly. Christine stood beside the bed, her arms wrapped around herself, clearly frightened.

"You can stay with me for a while, if it will make you feel better," I offered, not knowing what else to do.

Christine nodded and timidly climbed under the covers so she lay next to me. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her closer, feeling protective of her, and she sighed comfortably. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"Go to sleep now," I told her gently, kissing her on the forehead.

As we lay there, though, I found that now I was quite awake. All I could think was that Christine was lying in my arms, in my bed. Thoughts of the possibilities of such a situation filled my mind, even though I tried my best not to think of them.

"Erik?" Christine whispered after a while. "Are you still awake?"

"Yes."

"Me, too."

We were silent for a moment, electricity building between us and in the air around us. Then, as if to test it, Christine pressed a short, simple kiss to my lips. She pulled away only for a moment before I recaptured her lips and pulled her closer, her body flush against mine. I knew it was dangerous kissing her like this, but I didn't care. I wanted her, and that was all I could think about.

"Erik," Christine gasped when we finally pulled apart for a moment what could have been minutes or hours later. "I… I don't think I'm ready yet."

We were still for a while as we let our breathing slow.

"Alright," I said finally.

"Maybe we would both sleep better it I just went back to my own room," Christine said after another minute.

"No, stay," I pleaded, wrapping her tighter in my arms. "We'll just go to sleep now, I promise."

"Ok," Christine said, settling back into my embrace. Minutes passed silently, and I thought she had fallen asleep until I heard her say very quietly, "I love you, Erik."

**What do you think? Sorry this was kind of a shorter chapter, but I wanted to keep my promise and update today. Please review!**


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: Hello, my dear readers! Thank you so much for all the great reviews – they always inspire me so much. Enjoy the chapter!**

**Erik's POV**

"I love you, Erik."

When Christine had whispered those words that night, I couldn't believe that I had heard her right. It seemed too much to even dare to hope that she had meant it. I made myself believe that I had dreamt it, that I had hear her wrong, telling myself over and over that it wasn't possible for Christine to love me. I didn't deserve something as divine and pure as her love. But when she repeated those words the next day, I could come up with no excuse for not believing that she had actually said it. She took in my stunned expression for a moment before continuing.

"I mean it, you know," she said. "I meant it last night, too. And yes, I promise that I am fully aware of what I'm saying. I love you, and I wish you could believe me."

"But how can I believe you?" I asked incredulously. "After everything I've done, after everything I've done to _you_, how can I believe that you might actually love me?"

"How can you _not_ believe it?" Christine asked, her voice gentle but just as incredulous as mine. "I know that you haven't exactly been shown a lot of love in your life, but do you think that means that no one could ever love you or that you're less worthy of love than anyone else? Because that's not true. And aside from that, how could you not even think that it might be possible for me to love you? Would I still be here now if I didn't love you? Would I kiss you and let you kiss me and hold me?"

"I want to believe you, Christine," I sighed. "I want to let myself believe. And I've hoped; I've hoped for this more than anything. But… I just can't."

"Why not?" Christine asked softly, taking my hand in hers and entwining our fingers. "Tell me why you can't."

"It doesn't seem possible that something so miraculous would finally happen, not to me," I said quietly.

"A few months ago, would it have seemed possible that I would be here simply because I want to? Would it have seemed possible for me to not be bothered by your face and even ask you to keep your mask off?"

I shook my head. "I wouldn't have believed that any of this would happen."

"But it all happened anyway," Christine said, taking my face in her hands and caressing my marred skin. "Just give it a little time. I love you, Erik, and someday you'll be able to believe me."

It had been several weeks since out conversation, and I wanted more than anything to believe her when she said those words. I knew that she meant it – she told me with absolute sincerity that she loved me every chance she got – but there was still something that held me back from fully letting myself believe. To be honest, I was afraid. Terrified. I was afraid of letting myself feel hopeful, as I had learned long ago never to do. I was afraid of risking disappointment that was far greater than any that I had ever known. Of course I loved Christine with all of my being, and maybe that added to my fear. Things would be out of my control, and while I had everything to gain I also had everything to lose. But as those weeks passed, I realized that I didn't care. I would have given anything for Christine's love, and now she offered it. I had no choice but to accept.

**Christine's POV**

I walked along with Erik, enjoying the feeling of the grass on my bare feet and the unseasonable warmth of the day. The weather was finally nice enough for a full tour of the grounds around the house to be enjoyable, and Erik had easily given into my plea.

The area around the house was beyond beautiful. Everything was blossoming and full of life, showing signs of the summer that would soon come. I paused for a moment, closing my eyes to enjoy the radiant sunlight. Opening my eyes again after a moment, I looked up to see Erik watching me, affection and reverence clear in his expression.

"You said there was a lake around here?" I asked.

Erik nodded. "Would you like to see it?"

I nodded enthusiastically, and Erik took me to the lake, hidden by the trees, just beyond the house. The water was a deep blue and the surface shimmered in the sun. I waded in until the water lapped around my ankles, pleased to find that the coolness of the water contrasted perfectly with the heat of the day.

"Erik, can we swim here?"

"I suppose," Erik began. "But perhaps that should be left for later – I'm sure that the water's freezing, and you don't even have a bathing suit, and neither do I, for that matter…"

But I had stopped listening, too excited by the prospect of being surrounded by the cool, calm water on such a perfectly warm day. I pulled my cotton sundress over my head, leaving myself in only my underthings, and turned to toss the dress onto the shore. I looked back at Erik, then, who appeared to have forgotten what he had been saying in mid-sentence. The way he looked at me made my skin burn, but I liked it. I probably should have been embarrassed to be stared at in my underthings, but I was thrilled by it.

I waded deeper into the water until it was up to my waist before ducking under the surface, enjoying for a moment the cool silence that encompassed me. Then I broke the surface again, pushing my wet hair back from my face and grinning at Erik, who still watched me with a look in his eyes that made me shiver.

"It feels perfect, Erik!" I called teasingly. "Come swim!"

Erik seemed to consider for a moment before unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it next to my dress. My throat ran dry as I watched him undress, and I dove back underwater to keep myself from staring unabashedly. When I came back up and blinked the water out of my eyes, I saw that he was next to me now, and I smiled up at him weakly.

"Isn't it nice?" I asked.

"Mm, very," he said, still looking at me.

I splashed water at him playfully and he laughed, and I dove out of the way when he tried to splash me back. Soon we were engaged in an all-out war that ended only when he caught me in his arms and held me against my laughing protests. Before he could speak, I turned in his arms and pressed my lips to his, quickly and teasingly. We were silent and unmoving for a second before Erik spoke.

"I love you, Christine," he said softly.

I couldn't prevent the wide grin that spread across my face. "I love you, too."

Erik's sincere smile mirrored mine. "I know," he said before pulling me closer to kiss me deeply.

He held me to him tightly and I wrapped my legs around his waist to pull us even closer together as our embrace grew more passionate. Erik's hands tangled themselves in my wet hair and his lips trailed along my jaw before moving to my throat. I burned at his touch; I craved him. He was finally allowing himself to accept the fact that I loved him, and I wanted to prove it to him beyond a shadow of a doubt. I wanted to give myself to him fully. I was ready.

But then he stopped suddenly, not moving. "Do you hear that?" he asked.

It took a moment, but then I did hear something, and it was another minute before I recognized that it sounded like a car coming up the drive. Erik and I quickly disentangled ourselves and climbed onto the dry land. Erik managed to dress quicker than I did, and he was walking around to the front of the house when the car's engine turned off. I followed close behind Erik but waited around the corner of the house, cautiously watching as an olive-skinned man climbed out of the car.

Erik walked over and said something in greeting to the man. They shook hands, and though the gesture was cautious there was no hostility, so I assumed that it was safe for me to appear from around the corner. The man looked at me curiously as I walked to Erik's side, suddenly feeling self-conscious and trying to straighten my dress, which clung unflatteringly to my wet body. Erik put a protective arm around me when I was by his side.

"Christine Daae, I assume," the man said.

"Alive and well, if that's what you came to see to," Erik told the man, a little bitterly.

"Well, Erik, aren't you going to introduce us? That's the polite thing to do, you know," the man said casually, unfazed by Erik's comment.

"You obviously know who she is," Erik said before turning to me. "Christine, this is… I guess you could say he's an old friend of mine."

"Only if you use the term 'friend' in the loosest possible sense," the man interjected dryly, holding his hand out to me. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Daae."

I took his hand tentatively, looking up at Erik for reassurance. "Glad to meet you, too, Mr.…"

"Nadir Khan."

**Yay, Nadir's here! He's kinda one of my favorite characters, so I'm pretty excited to include him in this story. Just a quick note for those of you who read my other story, too: I'm working on the next chapter now. I promise. I will update that as soon as I can.**

**What does everyone think? Please review!**


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N: Hello, everyone! New month, new chapter! I'm so happy that I've had time to update more often! As usual, thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews – they always brighten my day and encourage me to keep writing. Enjoy the chapter!**

**Erik's POV**

Nadir and I sat in the sitting room, he in the armchair and I on the sofa, neither of us saying a word to each other as his dark eyes examined me in that maddeningly casual way of his. Christine had gone upstairs to change, leaving the two of us alone to wait for her. It had been years since I had seen the Daroga, and I was mildly frustrated to find that I could no more tell what he was thinking now than I could before; his face betrayed none of his thoughts. Finally, the silence becoming too heavy, I was forced to speak.

"If you're here to tell me that I must let her go, then I'm afraid you've wasted quite a good deal of time," I said coolly.

The only change in Nadir's expression was the raising of an eyebrow. "How is that, Erik?"

"She is free to go whenever she chooses," I said, and then added somewhat proudly, "She chooses to stay here with me."

"Can't imagine why she would," Nadir replied. "You're quite unbearable to live with."

"Polite as ever, I see, Daroga."

"Just like you, Erik."

"Your timing, too, is impeccable," I continued. "I can't imagine a less convenient time for you to show up here."

"I'm not even going to ask what that means or pretend to be shocked by it," Nadir said. "I can guess by the state you were both in when I arrived."

"You won't take her from me," I said. "She doesn't want to leave. Just ask her."

"Calm down, Erik, I never said I was going to take her away. I just want to talk to her."

I sighed, wishing that Christine would dress faster. The sooner she could convince Nadir that she was happy here, the sooner he could leave.

**Christine's POV**

I lingered in my room for a moment after I had finished dressing, not fully ready to face the stranger again. It wasn't just that I was embarrassed by him seeing me for the first time with my clothes all askew and my hair messed up with water still dripping off of both me and Erik (though I had to admit that that was fairly large part of it). Maybe he was here to take me away. Maybe he would tell the police where to find us, or maybe he already had. The fact that Erik knew him did not mean that I had no reason to be suspicious of him.

I knew that I couldn't remain upstairs for too long, though, so after making sure that I looked decent, I hurried down to the sitting room where they both sat waiting for me. I could feel the man's – Nadir's – eyes on me as I sat down beside Erik and calmly placed my hand over his. None of us spoke for a moment.

"Would you like something to drink, Nadir?" I asked, saying the first thing that came to mind.

"No, thank you, I'm fine, Miss Daae," Nadir answered politely.

"Christine," I corrected, and he nodded. Another moment passed silently before Erik spoke.

"Daroga, you have yet to tell us to what we owe the pleasure of your visit," he said. "I can't imagine that you were just passing through and thought you might come by, especially since I'm sure I only mentioned this place in passing to you years ago. You must have gone through a great deal of trouble to find us."

"In fact I did," Nadir replied. "I've been keeping an eye on you over the years, Erik, and when I heard of Christine's kidnapping I had a feeling that you were behind it – I knew that you had been teaching her for some years, and it's not every day that one hears of a masked man kidnapping a girl as crowds of people watched and not leaving a single trace for the police to find. It took quite a long time to find you, though, considering not only the fact that you are impossible to find if you don't want to be found, but also the fact that you don't legally exist."

"But here you are," Erik said with a slight cringe.

"Here I am," Nadir continued, "to make sure that everything is well, to make sure that Christine is happy and safe and that you haven't gone completely insane."

"Well, you're a little late for _that_, but as you can see Christine is both safe and happy."

"Still, I would like to hear it from her and see it for myself," Nadir said, turning to me.

"It's true," I said. "I'm very happy here. Erik offered to take me back to the city a couple months ago, but I chose to stay here."

Nadir's brow furrowed slightly, as if he did not quite believe me. "Erik, will you allow me to speak with Christine alone for a minute?" he asked.

Erik glanced uncertainly between us, and I half-smiled reassuringly and gave his hand a light squeeze. "Alright," he said after a moment, standing to leave. "But I'll be back in just a few minutes, Daroga, so say what you have to say."

With that, Erik disappeared around the corner, and we could hear his footsteps fading down the hall.

Nadir cleared his throat. "You can speak honestly, Christine."

"I am being honest," I said. "I do not want to go back to the city – not without Erik, at least. We are very happy here. And I promise that I'm perfectly safe with him."

"I just want to make sure that Erik is taking good care of you and that you are truly happy," Nadir said. "Erik can be very persuasive when he wants to be, and he can do the wrong thing when he means to do the right thing. I've known him long enough that sometimes I can talk sense into him, but not always. I just want you to know that you don't have to stay here. You can go back to your old life."

"I know that I can," I replied. "But I truly don't want to. I've had months to think about it, and my mind has been made up for a long time. Erik has not manipulated me into staying; he isn't forcing me in any way. I'm simply here because I want to be with Erik."

"I would like to stay for a while," Nadir said. "I have to admit, I'm curious. I'm interested to see how my old friend acts with you."

"Of course you're welcome to stay – I'm just as interested to meet a friend of Erik's," I said. "How long do you plan on staying with us?" I could hear Erik's footsteps coming back down the hall, so he would hear the answer too.

"I'm not entirely sure yet," Nadir said casually. "A few weeks, perhaps."

"Daroga, did you just say that you'll be staying here for a few _weeks_?" Erik asked, coming to stand behind me.

"I assume that I won't be intruding," Nadir said. "You have a beautiful home with an excess of space and lack of guests – I'm sure you can spare a room."

"I need to talk to Christine privately for a minute," Erik said instead of answering Nadir.

Nadir stood. "I'll get my suitcase from the car," he said as he walked out, leaving Erik and me alone.

"He did say a few weeks, right?" Erik asked, slightly exasperated. "Not a few minutes, or hours, but weeks?"

"That's what he said," I laughed lightly, standing to take both of Erik's hands in mine. "It won't be that bad," I continued, and Erik rolled his eyes. "He'll see that I really do want to be here, and then he'll be happy to leave us be. And besides, I am a bit excited to meet a friend of yours."

Erik sighed and pulled me to him. "As long as he doesn't convince you to leave."

I smiled up at him. "He won't."

**So, our dear Daroga is here to stay for a while! I'm already loving writing him. What do you think? Reviews are greatly loved!**


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N: Hello, my wonderful readers! As usual, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed. Enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

The afternoon was taken up with searching for spare furniture and cleaning one of the rooms that was not being used for anything. By dinner we had put together a nice-looking guest room, and we were tired and hungry when we finally sat down to eat. For a few minutes we were content to eat in silence, not even attempting to make conversation.

"The food is very good," Nadir commented. "I didn't realize that either of you were such talented cooks."

"Erik's the one with the talent," I said. "He's been teaching me. A few months ago I couldn't even make toast without setting off the smoke alarms, and now I'm cooking full meals."

"Christine's a fast learner," Erik added. "She's improved vastly – her meals are almost edible now." Nadir chuckled, and I poked my tongue out at Erik, who only smiled teasingly back.

"How he ever learned to cook, I'll never know," Nadir continued. "He was always moving from place to place, and when he did stay somewhere he was so deeply involved in some project or another that he would go for days without eating or sleeping."

"That sounds like him when he's composing now," I laughed, smiling at Erik. "How long have the two of you known each other?"

"I met the Daroga in Iran a year or so before I came back to New York City," Erik said. "We worked together in architecture for a while."

"As you can probably tell by this house," Nadir said, gesturing around us, "Erik is capable of designing some truly beautiful buildings."

"And the Daroga designs adequate ones," Erik commented, ignore Nadir as he dramatically rolled his eyes.

"We didn't make the best business partners," he said, and I laughed, easily seeing how they must have bickered constantly.

"But we were fairly successful," Erik added with a chuckle.

"So what happened?" I asked. "What made you come back to New York?"

"A variety of reasons," Nadir said, a bit hesitantly. "But in the end it wasn't really safe anymore – the country was beginning to grow more violent, and it didn't help that Erik had managed to make some fairly powerful enemies."

"So the Daroga smuggled me out of the country," Erik finished.

"And you stayed behind?" I asked Nadir. "You didn't go with him?"

Nadir shook his head. "No, I couldn't just up and leave. I had a family – a wife and a little boy, Reza."

"Where are they now?" I asked. "You came here alone."

Nadir bowed his head. "My wife left shortly after Reza died," he said after a moment

"I'm sorry," I said softly. I couldn't imagine what it would be like for a parent to lose their child.

"It was years ago," Nadir said simply, though he dark eyes revealed that the pain of it was anything but gone. "But enough about me. How have the two of you been getting on here?"

"Very well," I said, smiling at Erik who smiled back at me.

"We are very happy," he added, his eyes still solely on me as he spoke.

"I have to admit that this wasn't quite what I was expecting," Nadir commented. "Erik, you're not even wearing your mask."

Erik's hand flew to his face, his eyes widening slightly with surprise to find that, indeed, he didn't have the mask on. He began to stand to get it, but Nadir motioned for him to sit back down.

"Please, Erik, you haven't had it one this whole time; if it bothered me, don't you think I would have said something by now? I only meant that you must be very comfortable here to leave it off."

"Christine is very understanding that way," Erik said, looking at me gratefully. "She makes me comfortable, obviously enough to even make me forget that I'm not wearing my mask." I smiled back, the obvious affection in his voice making me feel warm inside.

The rest of the evening passed pleasantly. I began to see that Erik and Nadir's relationship, though it must have been complicated, was truly one of friendship. Now that we were reasonable sure that Nadir was not here to take me away, Erik seemed much more at ease with him and they talked and bantered like old friends. For a while I just sat back and watched them talk, and Erik would smile at me when I caught his eye. Eventually, my eyes grew heavy and I had to stifle a yawn.

"I think I'll go to bed now, if that's alright," I said.

"Let me walk you to your room," Erik said gently, standing with me and keeping a hand on the small of my back as we walked. I was grateful that he had suggested it – it would give us a few moments alone.

We came to my door, but I made no move to go in, instead allowing Erik to pull me close and hole me tightly in his arms. "We probably won't have much time alone while the Daroga's here," he murmured, his lips pressed to my temple.

I sighed, thinking of how the day had started, how I wanted nothing but time to be alone with Erik. "I know. But once he's gone we'll have all the time in the world."

Erik nodded, though he didn't seem quite as resolved. "I love you," he said after a moment.

"And I love you," I told him, standing up on my tiptoes to press my lips to his. The embrace was far shorter than either of us wanted it to be, but we knew that Nadir was waiting downstairs. "Goodnight, Erik," I said as we reluctantly parted.

"Goodnight," Erik said. I watched him disappear back downstairs before finally entering my room and closing the door behind me.

**Erik's POV**

"You seem very happy, Erik," Nadir commented as we sat together, alone again. "Happier than I ever thought I'd see you."

"I am happy, Daroga," I said. "I never thought that it would be possible, but I'm happy."

"I have to say, I think that having Christine around – even though it was wrong to kidnap her – has done you a lot of good."

"I love her," was all I said in response. We sat quietly for another moment.

"Will you tell me what has happened, what has changed?" Nadir asked. "I assume that she really was brought here against her will, that the news and the papers didn't get that entirely wrong, but here she is now, seemingly perfectly happy and normal."

"I did bring her here against her will," I admitted after a second. "She tried to escape at first. She didn't make it far before a snowstorm made her turn around so she didn't freeze to death. And I think that for a while she was waiting for an opportunity to escape again. But she grew to like it here, and I suppose she grew to like me. I told her about the night her father died, then, and she said she hated me, so I told her to leave. I was going to kill myself, then." As I said this, Nadir's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, but he said nothing and I continued.

"She didn't leave, though, and she stopped me. She helped me get off morphine, too. I don't think I'll ever understand what made her stay, what makes her care for me. She… she's extraordinary, Daroga."

Nadir nodded, and another few minutes passed silently. "You seem much better, Erik," he said. "I could tell that the moment I got here." He paused, and then added with a smirk, "If I didn't know you, I might think that you're normal."

I chuckled a bit at his wryness. "I'm no closer to normal than you, Daroga, but at least I have a traumatic past to excuse it."

Nadir chuckled at this too. "At least I don't even make excuses," he countered.

"The only reason you don't try to excuse your behavior is because you know that you don't have an excuse that would hold up."

Nadir smiled slightly. "It is good to see you like this, Erik. I am truly happy to see that you are doing well."

"Me too, Daroga," I said softly. "Me too."

**What do you think? Please, please, please review!**


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: Hello, everyone! As always, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed – you all just make my day! Enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

When I awoke in the morning, at first I was confused by the unfamiliar sound of two voices drifting up from the floor below. I sat up and gently stroked Ayesha, who was curled up beside me, as sleep slowly cleared from my mind. The first voice was Erik's – I could recognize it anywhere – but the second… belonged to Nadir, I realized after a moment. It seemed so strange for there to be another person here after month of being alone with Erik. I decided that I was perfectly happy with it being just the two of us normally. Maybe I shouldn't have felt that way, but I didn't really care.

I pulled myself out of bed and showered and dressed quickly, knowing that they were probably waiting for me downstairs, and it wasn't good manners for a hostess to keep her guest waiting for her. Was that what I was – a hostess? That would imply that the house was my home as much as it was Erik's, that we were equals here… almost as if we were married.

I felt a slight pang of longing as I thought the word, even though I knew it was ridiculous. Why should I even think about wanting to get married? I was only nineteen, and besides that I was already sure that Erik and I would be together for the rest of our lives; we needed each other as much as we needed food or water or air or anything else that kept us alive, and I knew that I would always have him. Why should I care at all about a ceremony, a simple formality that declared that we loved each other? I didn't even know if a legal marriage would be possible considering there was no legal record of Erik's existence.

I made myself push the thoughts aside – I felt a little weird thinking about marriage, and even weirder knowing that I wanted it, or at least some small part of me did. Instead I focused on finishing getting dressed and heading downstairs.

Erik and Nadir sat at the breakfast table, talking casually. Erik smiled when he saw me entering, and I thought of how much I loved his smile and how happy seeing it made me. I went over to him and kissed him on the cheek before sitting down beside him and beginning the breakfast that was waiting for me.

"Christine, I was just telling Erik that I've heard wonderful things about your voice," Nadir said to me.

Erik scoffed. "Wonderful doesn't even begin to describe her voice, Daroga," he said. "Even the best reviews that she received from her performances last year don't do her justice."

"Erik's just a little biased," I laughed. "And he thinks way too much of my voice – it's really just alright, nothing that special."

"I may be biased, Christine, but your voice is absolutely better than alright," Erik said firmly. "You're perfect, divine, and anyone who has heard you sing would agree to that without hesitation."

I blushed at Erik's praise. "I'm only good because you made me good," I said softly, which earned me an affectionate smile.

"Daroga, perhaps you, being a relatively unbiased audience, could provide Christine with a little more clarity on how good she is," Erik said. "She seems to have forgotten how much audiences adored her."

Nadir smiled at the suggestion. "How could I possibly refuse a private performance by the highly-acclaimed Christine Daae?"

We set up in one of the music rooms after breakfast, clearing sheets of music off of a chair so Nadir could sit. Erik sat down at the piano to accompany me, flipping through the scores of pieces that we had worked on over the last months. "What would you like to sing, my dear?" he asked me.

I thought for a moment. "A duet."

Erik chuckled. "The Daroga wants to hear you, my dear, not me."

"Actually, I'm quite intrigued," Nadir said. "I know of your musical genius, Erik, but I've never heard you sing."

Erik sighed. "Christine will sing something alone first. Then we will sing together." Songs were quickly decided on, and Erik played a few opening bars for me before I began.

"_Think of me,_

_think of me fondly,_

_when we've said goodbye._

_Remember me_

_every so often –_

_promise me you'll try._

_On that day,_

_that not so distant day,_

_when you are far away and free – _

_if you ever find a moment,_

_spare a thought for me."_

I sang the song with the masterfulness that came only through Erik's teaching, that always surpassed my knowledge of what I could do, and my voice soared through the melody. As soon as the final notes rang out, clear and strong just as Erik had taught me, Nadir rose to his feet and applauded.

"I have to agree with Erik, at least on this matter," he said. "That was brilliant, Christine."

"Thank you. And now for our duet," I said brightly. Singing with Erik, hearing his ethereal voice harmonizing with mine, was always exciting for me. It was easy to get lost in the music when Erik sang. Again, Erik played a few bars opening and I began the song.

"_Once upon another time,_

_our story had only begun._

_You chose to turn the page,_

_And I made choices too._

_Once upon that other time,_

_we did what we thought must be done._

_And now we have no choice._

_We do what we must do…_

_We love._

_We live._

_We give what we can give,_

_and take what little we deserve."_

When Erik joined in I became wrapped in the deep, warm resonance of his voice, so melodious and rich that it was inhuman.

"_Once upon another time,_

_I knew how our story would end,_

_and maybe I was wrong,_

_but now the moment's gone._

_Were it still that other time,_

_I'd make time itself somehow bend!_

_But now I'm not that strong,_

_and time keeps moving on."_

Our voices joined together in an unearthly harmony as the song reached a beautiful crescendo.

"_We love._

_We live._

_We give what we can give,_

_and take what little we deserve._

_We love._

_We live._

_We give what we can give,_

_and take what little we deserve…_

_Once upon another time."_

We finished the song with just as much applause from Nadir, if not more. I laughed and curtsied playfully, feeling happy and very much in love – music had a way of connecting me to Erik like nothing else could. Erik's music always had that effect on me; it solidified my bond to him, made us complete in a way that was still beyond my understanding. It entwined our very beings irreversibly.

**Erik's POV**

After a few days, I was almost getting used to have Nadir around. Of course, that didn't mean that he was always the most welcomed presence.

It was starting to be frustrating, not being able to be alone with Christine for more than a few moments, not being able to hold her and kiss her like I wanted to. I had become very spoiled, I realized, during the short time I had been allowed to kiss her freely. It still seemed unbelievable to me that she could love me as I loved her, and I treasured and craved her gentle touch more than anything in the world. And now that Nadir was around constantly, every touch, every kiss, was chaste and sweet, no more than what would be done in public. After about a week I was ready for Nadir to leave if only so I could kiss Christine properly again, and whenever we wanted.

The few moments that we had together, too, were often interrupted, almost as if Nadir was doing it on purpose. He would just walk casually into the room, not even noticing us, and sit down with a book before glancing up and, seeing us staring back at him, saying, "Oh, hello," or "Oh, there you are."

I would roll my eyes, and one time Christine dissolved into a fit of embarrassed giggles before excusing herself from the room, muttering something about being tired.

"So," I said, matching Nadir's nonchalance. "Have you started looking into any long-term arrangements yet?"

Nadir sniggered. "Kicking me out already?"

"Soon," I said, "but not quite yet, I suppose. Unless, of course, you somehow manage to start being even more unbearable than you are now."

"I'll probably get an apartment in the city," Nadir went on. "I've found that I quite like it there, even if I have only spent brief amounts of time there before. Besides, that way I'll be close in case I feel like bothering you."

"Thanks for the consideration," I said dryly, making Nadir smirk.

"I know that you and Christine are happy and doing well now, which is what I came here to learn," Nadir said after a second. "And I'm sure that the two of you are ready to have this place to yourselves again."

"What in the world could make you think that?" I asked sarcastically. "But I am glad that you can see that we're happy and that I'm not holding her here against her will. Besides, who knows? – maybe it will be nice having someone who could visit once in a while."

"Well then, once I get an apartment, I would be happy to visit the two of you whenever you want me to, and probably when you don't want me to, as well."

I had to chuckle at this, then paused for a second. "Daroga," I began. "There's an idea that I've been having lately, and for once I would actually like to hear your opinion of it."

Nadir sat up a little straighter, sitting a little closer to the edge of the chair, intrigued. "And just what might this idea be?"

"Something that I need your help with," I told him. "A surprise for Christine."

**What do you think? I probably won't be able to update again until Saturday or Sunday because I'll be at All State Orchestra, but if I get enough reviews, I might be persuaded to blow off school work to update sooner. Maybe I'd even update over the weekend as well as over Valentine's day – I have some super special chapters as Valentines to you all!**

**By the way, songs in this chapter were from Phantom and Love Never Dies – I obviously do not own them. **


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N: Hello, my lovely readers! I come bearing a new chapter just in time for Valentine's Day! As always, thank you so much to those who reviewed. Also, I would like to dedicate this chapter to those you of you who, like me, plan on spending Valentine's Day eating a lot of chocolate, reading a lot of fluff, and possibly watching Phantom 25. Enjoy!**

**Christine's POV**

When I woke up on that summer morning a week or two later, it felt like something was different. I couldn't figure out what it was, though; there was just a vaguely excited energy in the air. The sun shown in through the windows, golden squares of light falling across the floor and my bed. Ayesha lay at the foot of my bed, still dozing, just like always. I could find nothing that was any different from normal.

It wasn't until I had showered and gone into my closet in search of something to wear that I came across the first difference. There was a grey garment bag, hung on the rack so that it covered everything else and stood out prominently. It had definitely not been hanging in the closet before. I looked at it more closely and saw a note stuck to it that simply said "wear" written in Erik's handwriting. Unzipping the bag, I pulled the dress out and stepped back to examine it.

The dress was beautiful – simple but very elegant. It was just a little above knee-length, and it had a full, vintage-style skirt with a thin white belt at the waist. The white fabric was soft to the touch, and I imagined how cool and wonderful it would feel against my skin. Very briefly I wondered why Erik wanted me to wear this – though it wasn't necessarily formal, the quality and simply beauty of it suggested that it was much nicer than my other clothes – but the question was overcome by the pleasure of wearing something so pretty. I slipped it on and spent a moment examining myself in the mirror, turning this was and that and making the skirt swish around my legs; I was not at all surprised to find that it fit me perfectly.

After tying my curls back in a low ponytail with a ribbon – white, to match the dress – and putting on a tiny bit of makeup just because I was feeling extra pretty, I was ready to venture downstairs to see what Erik thought of the dress.

It was silent when I descended the stairs, though; I had gotten used to the quiet sound of voices that had been greeting me in the mornings lately, and being without them made the silence seem even stronger now. Still, I walked into the dining room as usual, and was surprised to find Erik there, waiting for me. His eyes were trained on me, filled with an emotion I couldn't quite identify as he looked at me. A smile spread across his face.

"Good morning," he said simply.

"Good morning," I replied a little unsurely. Something was going on.

"You look beautiful," Erik said sincerely, his eyes still lovingly on me.

"Thank you, Erik. Is there some reason I'm supposed to wear this, though?"

"In fact there is," Erik replied, walking over to me. I could see excitement in his expression, and I half-wondered if I had forgotten another holiday. Taking my hand, Erik said only, "Come with me," before leading me outside.

**Erik's POV**

The day was warm and perfect when I took Christine outside. Christine laughed as I excitedly led her along, and I was happy to realize that she still had no idea what was going on. When I saw her in that dress, I feared that I would give the whole thing away then and there and tell her what was happening; she looked so stunning that the breath literally left my body.

I knew that this was a little risky – there was a chance that she might not like it, although I was reasonable sure that she would. I just had to hope that this wouldn't be the case.

Nadir, of course, had been essential to planning all of this. He had gone into the city and gotten everything we needed, including the dress that Christine now wore. I had been very specific about everything I wanted, and Nadir had not failed me. He had been excited about the idea from the moment I told him. And now he was coming into view as Christine and I reached our destination.

I had brought Christine to the lake where Nadir stood waiting for us, the water glittering in the background. Christine looked up at me, confused, and then back to Nadir, who smiled encouragingly.

"Christine," I said, making her turn back to me. "I've wanted to do this for a while, now, and I think this is finally the right time."

"Right time for what?" she asked, still confused. "What are we doing?"

I said nothing at first, and her lips parted slightly in surprise as I dropped to one knee.

"It wouldn't be legal, of course, seeing as I don't exist as far as the government's concerned, but I thought that – if you want to – we could exchange vows. The Daroga would be our witness. It will be for us – it could be binding as far as we are concerned. Because as long as you know that I love you, nothing else matters."

"Erik," Christine breathed, the sweetest smile I had ever seen spreading across her face.

I reached into my pocket and produced a small velvet box for her. "Christine, my love, will you marry me?"

Tears welled up in Christine's eyes, and she nodded, unable to speak. "Yes," she managed to say after a moment, her voice just above a whisper. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes."

I smiled at her, feeling moisture gathering in my own eyes and realizing that, although I had hoped for this desperately for a very long time, I had never truly expected it to happen. I stood and held Christine tightly in my arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Are you ready?" Nadir asked when we pulled apart slightly, and again, Christine could only nod her head and continue grinning. "Erik, why don't you speak first."

I found that I wasn't quite sure of what to say – the things I had planned to say had fled my mind, and there were no words to express the overwhelming joy and love and gratitude that consumed me.

"Christine, my Christine," I began, taking both her hands in mine as squeezing them lightly. "There are no words to describe the depth with which I love you. Many people say to their… their brides," I savored the feel and meaning of the word as I said it, "that they are the best thing that's ever happened to them. But you truly are the best thing that has ever happened to me. For so much of my life I couldn't even imagine what it would be like to be cared about at all, much less loved by someone. I never thought that it would be possible; I never thought I would see anything but hatred.

"But you… you show me love. You show me what it is to love someone and to be loved by someone, and you love me despite everything. You have saved me, my Christine. You are everything to me, and, as long as you'll have me, I will be with you and love you always."

Opening the small velvet box, I pulled out the ring and slid it onto the fourth finger of her left hand. When I looked back up, her tears had spilled over and ran silently down her cheeks, and all either of us could do was smile. She was so beautiful.

Christine sniffled and then started to speak, her voice shaky at first but growing stronger with every word she said. "Of course I will always have you, Erik. I want you to be with me as long as I live. You love me more than I can fathom, and I love you just as much. I know that you will always be there to guide and support and protect and teach me, and above all you'll love me. You say that I have saved you, but you have saved me, too. I had nothing after my father's death, nothing but you, and without you I would still have nothing. I know that it can be hard for you to believe that I love you sometimes, but I intend to spend the rest of my life helping you believe, showing you how much I love you. I love you with all my being, Erik, and I never want to be parted from you."

Nadir slipped a gold wedding band into Christine's hand, and she slid it onto my finger, bringing my hand to her lips to press a soft kiss to my knuckles. I reached up to gently wipe away her tears, and she turned her face to press her lips to my palm. Until that moment I wasn't aware that such incredible joy could possibly exist in the world.

Nadir cleared his throat and smiled at us. "I am very happy to now pronounce you husband and wife," he said with formality that made Christine giggle. "Erik, you may kiss your bride."

Words I never thought I would hear in my life.

Christine and I paused for a moment, both determined to memorize every detail of this. She beamed at me, and I could only beam back before I gently took her face in my hands and slowly, lovingly, kissed my wife.

**Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! Think of this as my Valentine to you. Wanna give me a super special Valentine? Review and tell me what you think! Lots of love to all of you!**


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N: Hello, everyone! Wow, thank you so much for all the reviews for that last chapter! I had one or two new ones every time I check my email! Did anyone else happen to have the best Valentine's Day ever? I definitely did. Anyways, I think you'll like this chapter, too. Enjoy!**

**Christine's POV**

That day was filled with more happiness and laughter than any I could remember, and any for a long time to come. Nadir even convinced Erik to let him snap a few pictures of us, without his mask on, too. We spent the day in joyful celebration; as far as we were concerned, we were married now, and that deserved much celebration. That night the three of us ate dinner sitting out on the porch steps, watching the setting sun set fire to the sky and enjoying the perfect summer evening as our conversation finally began to dwindle. After a while Nadir stood and stretched.

"I think I'll turn in for the night," he said, moving to go inside.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "It's still early." Erik gave him a look that strongly suggested he turn in now anyway, and I blushed a little when I realized that Nadir was doing this intentionally to give Erik and me more time together. It was, after all, our wedding night.

"Yes, I'm sure," Nadir replied simply as he disappeared inside. "Goodnight."

For a while after Nadir had gone in, Erik and I just sat out on the porch, and I would have been perfectly content to stay there forever in Erik's arms and watch the light fade and the stars appear. The night air around us cooled, and Erik held me tighter when I shivered a little in the cool breeze.

"Are you ready to go inside?" he asked me. I nodded, my head resting against his chest, and we stood. I laughed when he swept me off my feet and carried me into the house, pressing my lips to his.

"We're married," I said quietly when we pulled apart. "I'm your wife, and you're my husband."

Erik smiled at me. I had never seen him smile as much as he had that day. "Christine," he whispered, his voice filled with amazement. "I never thought…" he trailed off as he ran the tips of his fingers along my jaw, making my heartbeat quicken. He didn't need to finish, though; I knew.

Feeling the overwhelming need to assure him that I was real, that this happiness we shared was real, I pressed my lips to his again, more firmly this time. We melted into the embrace, into each other. The kiss deepened, and neither of us pulled away; there was finally no reason to pull away, no reason to stop ourselves. Still holding me in his arms, Erik carried me up the stairs and down the hall to his room. Our room, now.

Setting me on my feet, Erik took a small step back, just looking at me in my simple white dress. I looked back at him, memorizing the way he looked, memorizing this moment. My husband, I told myself as I looked at him, but the word still sounded foreign and unexpected. I imagined that he was trying to fully grasp the concept now, too. We belonged to each other. We had promised to love each other forever. When I met Erik's eyes, I still saw traces of the wounded, broken man who couldn't expect anything but hatred from anyone. I saw the little boy who hadn't even been loved by his own mother. I saw the years of abuse and neglect, but what surprised me the most was that I saw vulnerability. It was as if he expected me to suddenly turn from him and leave in disgust. It was as if he was giving me a chance to change my mind.

Instead I took a step towards him, eliminating the space between us. He was not wearing his mask, and though the lights were dimmed there was still enough light for me to see him clearly; I was glad that at least he wasn't trying to hide himself from me. I gently caressed the deformed side of his face, resting my other hand on his chest, his heartbeat strong under my palm. He brought his hands to my hips, pressing my body to his. When he met my eyes again, his were filled with more complete devotion and adoration than I could understand. Slowly I began to undo the buttons of his shirt, sliding it off when every button had been undone. My fingers glided over him, tracing the scars that covered his chest and back.

Then he kissed me.

Our embrace was both passionate and curiously calm. Everything seemed perfectly clear and peaceful. We were in no hurry; what was more important than anything now was the two of us, just being here together and showing our love. We savored every moment of it. I kissed Erik's jaw and neck and shoulders as his hands freely roamed my body. I ached for him, longed for more of his touch, wondering if I could ever have enough of it. I didn't think so.

I gasped softly when he slid the zipper on the back of the dress open, remembering that time so long ago in my dressing room, the first time that I had really wondered if I had feelings for him. Letting the dress fall to the floor, I very briefly tried to recall if I was wearing matching underwear, but I was too caught up in our embrace for thought to really be possible. The tantalizing feeling of Erik's lips on my skin, trailing hungrily along my neck and collarbone and down to my breasts, made simply remembering to breathe enough of a struggle.

Soon we were bare, and I was being gently laid down onto the bed. Erik caressed me, touched me, kissed me as we explored each other's bodies. Just for a moment Erik drew back from me, letting his eyes wander my body.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered reverently.

"So are you," I said softly, sincerely, smiling up at him. "I love you, Erik."

Erik kissed me again, and I could feel his smile against my lips. "I love you, too, Christine. More than you could ever know."

**Erik's POV**

I lied awake for a while after Christine had fallen asleep. She was curled up next to me, her head resting on my chest, and I absentmindedly ran my hand up and down her bare back. It still seemed unbelievable that this was real. It was still hard to believe that Christine could love me at all; it seemed entirely impossible that she had become my wife today. But it really happened, I told myself. This was real, and she truly was lying here with me now, our bodies tangled in the sheets. All of this had to be real; I couldn't have dreamt something so wonderful.

Even in my wildest dreams, I could never have imagined myself lying here, ware and comfortable and happy, beside by beautiful, perfect wife.

Christine stirred a little, her eyes opening sleepily when I pressed my lips to her forehead. "Go back to sleep, angel," I said softly, and she sighed and shifted so that she was closer to me.

"I love you, Erik," she said as she closed her eyes again, as if she couldn't say the words enough. As if telling me over and over would make up for the lifetime I had spent without ever hearing those words.

And, in a way, it did. Her love was the only thing I needed now. She was all I wanted, and she was the only thing that I knew I could never again be without. I couldn't make myself care about anyone who had hated me, even my mother. I couldn't make myself care about anything that I had suffered through. Because now there was only Christine; she was all that mattered.

There was only the two of us, here and now, falling asleep in each other's arms as the sun began to rise.

"I love you, Christine," I whispered, knowing that I would never be able to say it enough, either.

**What do you think? Please review – the more reviews I get, the sooner you'll get to find out what happens next!**


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N: Hello, dearest readers! Thank you so, so much for the reviews for that last chapter! You all are amazing! I'm so sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up – I had a college audition that was eating up most of my time, and this is as soon as I could get the chapter up. Enjoy!**

**Christine's POV**

I awoke to the late-morning sun streaming in through the windows and no Erik beside me. I sat up slightly, wondering where he had gone, but I didn't have to wonder for long. Erik entered the room, holding a red rose in one hand and something behind his back in the other. He was only partially dressed, wearing only his pants; his hair was adorably disheveled, and, blessedly, he wore no mask. I smiled at him as he came and sat beside me on the bed, setting the rose down on the bedside table.

"Good morning," I said, kissing him lightly on the lips.

"Good morning," he replied, his expression revealing that he would have liked very much for the kiss to have lasted longer.

"What have you got behind your back?" I asked, amused by the playfulness in his eyes.

"Nadir's camera," Erik admitted without shame, holding the camera out and pointing it at me.

"Erik!" I laughed, swatting the camera away. "You do realize that since this is Nadir's camera, you have to give it back to him, right? Which means that he'll see any pictures that you take."

"I'll just tell him not to look at the pictures, have them printed, and give them to us," Erik defended. "Besides, you looked so beautiful sleeping there."

I raised an eyebrow. "But do you really want to risk Nadir seeing me naked?"

Erik took the sheets, which were pooled haphazardly around my waist, and tugged them up to cover me before quickly snapping a picture. "Problem solved," he said. "Your exquisiteness is documented, and no one but me sees you naked."

"Erik!" I shrieked laughingly, trying to hide my face with the sheet as he took another picture. "Stop it! I just woke up – I must look awful!"

Erik chuckled and set the camera aside, pulling the sheet from my hands and kissing me. "I think you look more beautiful than ever," he said softly.

I smiled and kissed him again. "And I think that since you took pictures of me, I should get to take a picture of you."

Erik shook his head. "That's not how it works."

"At least one with you in it, then," I insisted. "I don't want pictures of just myself, and if your goal is documenting the first morning of our marriage, I don't want it to look like I spent the morning alone."

Erik sighed. "Alright. Just one with both of us, then."

I kissed him on the cheek and leaned over him to grab the camera, holding it up in the air so that it would capture both of us. Then I snapped the picture and set it back down, settling comfortably into Erik's embrace.

"Do we have to get up?" I asked, pressing a kiss to Erik's neck.

"No, we don't," Erik said decidedly. "I've already informed the Daroga that we will most likely be absent for a while."

"Good," I said, my hands moving teasingly down his chest to the waist of his pants. "I don't plan on getting up just yet."

It was mid-afternoon by the time we finally ventured downstairs, driven there solely by hunger. I was dressed only in a plain T-shirt I had found in Erik's dresser which went almost halfway down my thighs and thus was considered covering enough for a brief trip to the kitchen. While Erik set about preparing a meal for us, I picked up an apple and took a bite, letting my lips linger on it for a moment, aware of how Erik was watching me with an expression that voiced his thoughts quite clearly. Licking the juice from my lips, I saw how Erik's eyes lingered hungrily on my mouth, and I flashed a flirtatious smile at him. Before I knew it, food had been temporarily forgotten and I was in Erik's arms, my back against the wall and my legs wrapped around his waist as our mouths clashed. We only had a moment, though, before we heard Nadir calling to us from the hall.

Erik sighed against my neck and set me down. "In here, Daroga."

The first thing I noticed when Nadir entered the kitchen was the look of worry on his face. My heart sank, my playfulness fading quickly; something wasn't right.

"Erik," Nadir said, slightly breathless. "A car's just pulled up in the drive."

He hadn't even finished his sentence when Erik sprang into action, almost running out of the room and pulling me along behind him as Nadir followed a step behind us. I didn't know if Erik had a plan, but it didn't matter – we hadn't even made it through the main hall when the front door swung open, hitting the wall behind it with a bang.

"Christine!" The voice was familiar, but I would have given anything for it to belong to anyone other than Raoul.

Before I had time to react, Erik had stepped protectively in front of me. Nadir, too, took a step forward, but Erik held up a hand to stop him. "Let me handle the boy," he said quietly.

"And you must be Erik," Raoul said, walking casually down the hall towards us.

"De Changy," Erik regarded him calmly. "And here I thought that you were too stupid to ever find us." Raoul chuckled coolly, and the sound sent shivers down my spine.

"Raoul," I said firmly. "There's been a misunderstanding –"

"No, Christine," Raoul said, not letting me finish. "There hasn't. You don't have to stay with this madman any longer. I am here to take you back home, back to where you belong. The Girys are outside waiting for you now."

"You will not take her anywhere," Erik growled. "This is where she chooses to be."

Raoul laughed, the sound of it cold and devoid of amusement. "I disagree." With one smooth, quick motion, there was a gun leveled at Erik's chest.

When Erik spoke, his voice was deadly calm. "Daroga, take Christine outside to wait for me." I opened my mouth to protest, but Erik stopped me. "Everything will be fine, Christine," he was gently. "Go wait for me outside, where I know you're out of harm's way. I'll be out in a moment."

"Erik, do you really think –" Nadir began to argue.

"Take her, Daroga."

"But –"

"Nadir."

This silenced Nadir, made further questioning impossible. After a brief moment of hesitation, Nadir sighed sadly and took my arm, leading me away. All I could do was stare over my shoulder back at Erik, who silently watched me go, and pray that everything really would be alright.

**Meg's POV**

I leapt out of the car, with Mother following close behind me, as soon as I saw Christine coming out of the house accompanied by a strange man that I hadn't seen before. Christine looked up as I sprinted towards her, and her face brightened slightly when she saw me. The man released his grip on her arm, and she ran down to meet me.

"It's so good to see you!" she exclaimed as we embraced.

"I'm so glad you're safe," I told her. "I've missed you so much! Are you alright?"

We pulled away slightly and I saw that her face was white and creased with worry. She embraced Mother, too, but it was easy to see that she had sobered again after our greeting.

"Of course I'm alright," she said. "Up until five minutes ago when Raoul came bursting in, everything was perfect."

"Christine, what's going on in there?" Mother asked, concern beginning to show on her face.

"R-Raoul has a gun," Christine stammered. "Erik sent me out so I would be safe, but it will all be fine – Erik said he'd take care of it. He promised it would be fine."

"Christine, everything's fine _now_," I told her gently. "We're here to take you home, away from him."

Christine looked slightly confused. "But this is my home," she said. "Didn't you get my letter? I want to be here – I want to be with Erik."

I opened my mouth to speak – what I was going to say I wasn't sure, maybe ask her what she meant or ask about her choice of attire – but before I could say anything, the crack of a gun firing filled the air. No one moved; no one breathed. All I could think was, _Did Raoul really do it? Or did Erik fire the gun? _I felt sick. Someone could be hurt or dead. That wasn't what I wanted – I just wanted Christine home. After a moment the front door opened and Raoul came out. Mother covered her mouth with her hand and bowed her head, silently understanding. The man I didn't know looked pained, moisture glistening in his eyes. Christine looked dazed, unable or unwilling to understand.

"We can go now," Raoul said simply. "My men are taking care of the body."

No one spoke, and we moved to guide Christine to the car.

"Come, Christine," Mother said gently. "Let us take you home for now."

Christine shook us off. "Where's Erik?" she asked. "I won't leave without him."

None of us answered her. Mother just looked at the ground. I truly felt sick now. Only Raoul would meet Christine's eyes, his gaze cool and indifferent. How could he have just killed a man and show no remorse, no sympathy?

"Where's Erik?" Christine repeated, her voice faltering a little as she looked at us. Then she looked towards the house, fear beginning to fill her eyes. "Erik?" she called as she took a step towards the house, and then another. "Erik?" Her voice was rising in terror and panic. "Erik! Erik!" Before we could stop her, she was running towards the house, her cries for Erik becoming more frantic.

The man I didn't know caught her by the shoulders just as she reached the steps. "Christine, stop!"

"Let me go!" Christine screamed, struggling against him.

"Christine, you don't need to see what's in there," he said gently.

With an anguished, despairing cry, Christine sank to her knees, still calling out for Erik. The man helped us get her into the car, tersely introducing himself as Nadir and muttering something about how he'd be by to see Christine soon. Only his dark eyes betrayed the depth of the sadness that consumed him. Christine sobbed and screamed as we put her into the car, her voice starting to grow hoarse.

"I won't go without Erik!" she cried. "Please don't make me leave him!"

"Christine, nothing can be done," Nadir told her. "Just go home and be with your loved ones. I'll take care of things here and be back with you as soon as I can."

"My loved one is _here_," Christine argued, tears still streaming down her face as her eyes shone with both fury and agony.

"Erik is dead, Christine," Raoul said calmly from where he sat in the front seat.

"No, no he's not!" Christine yelled. "He promised me! Please," she begged. "Please don't make me leave him! Don't take me away from him!"

Nadir looked crushed as he closed the car door, looking at Christine apologetically.

I couldn't bear to look at Christine's grief-stricken face as she curled up into herself and cried, still calling out weakly for Erik. The car pulled away and the house disappeared, and I knew that, despite my good intentions, I had just caused something dreadfully and unforgivably terrible.

**Please don't hate me! I promise you that there will be a happy ending. But other than that, what do you think? On a related topic, is anyone going to see Love Never Dies in cinemas tomorrow night? I am, so if you come across a girl in a theatre in Colorado who looks like she's crying so hard that she might pass out, it could be me!**

**Please review!**


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N: Hello, my lovely readers! And, wow, lots of reviews for that last chapter! Thank you! It makes me so happy to hear that people are enjoying the story and want more. Enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

I was barely aware of the long car ride back into the city – it passed in a blur. At first Meg or Mrs. Giry would try to comfort me, but I guess they gave up after a while; no one said anything at all after that. I cried until there were no tears left within me, and even then my body shook with sobs. He couldn't be gone. Erik couldn't be dead. He promised me that everything would be alright. Just yesterday he promised that he would be with me always. Erik had given me the world, and in less than a day it was gone, and I was left to wander, lost and empty and alone, with only memories of the happiness we had shared.

Drawing me knees up to my chest, I wrapped my arms around myself and buried my face into the fabric of Erik's shirt that I wore. His scent still lingered on the fabric and on my skin. _He's not dead, _I told myself over and over. _He's not dead, and this is all some horrible misunderstanding. I'll get it sorted out, and everything will go back to the way it was._

I only noticed that the car had stopped because Mrs. Giry began gently coaxing me out. Blinking my eyes into focus as we stepped out onto the sidewalk, I took in my surroundings, which seemed both familiar and foreign. We stood in front of the apartment building that I had called home for years, the city sprawling out around us. All of the sights and sound and lights were almost too much for me to process. I hadn't even noticed that night had fallen until now.

Raoul muttered something about coming by tomorrow if he could, but it was only Mrs. Giry and Meg who escorted me up to the apartment. I leaned on them heavily as we walked inside; I felt numb. The apartment was as familiar and homey as ever, but this provided no comfort. It wasn't my home, not anymore. Silently, I sank down onto the sofa, and Meg and Mrs. Giry sat down beside me.

"Christine, do you need anything?" Mrs. Giry asked kindly. "Something to eat or drink? A bath? A change of clothes?"

I thought of how I must have shocked them, coming out of the house in only Erik's shirt, my hair disheveled and wild. They must have assumed the worst, but telling them the truth right now seemed unbearably painful, as if talking about loving Erik would rip me apart from the inside out.

"No," I said quietly. I clenched and unclenched my left hand, feeling the ring on my finger. They must have noticed, but they said nothing.

"Christine, I know that this has to be hard for you," Meg said gently, placing her hand on my shoulder. "But you're home with us now. Everything will be alright."

"Erik said that, too," I said, my voice colder than I expected it to be. "Before Raoul shot him."

Meg flinched as if I had slapped her and withdrew her hand. "We didn't know that he was going to kill Erik," she said softly.

"Why couldn't you have just believed what I wrote to you in my letter?" I asked. "Why is it so unfathomable that I might actually have been happy?"

"Christine, you have to understand that we don't know what happened during those months that you were gone," Mrs. Giry said, speaking carefully. "We weren't there. For all we knew – and for all we know now – you could have easily been threatened into writing that letter. And of course there is the possibility of Stockholm syndrome –"

"I do not have Stockholm syndrome," I snapped, standing quickly and whirling around to face them. "And Erik would never hurt me. You of all people should have been sure of that. He told me about how you helped him escape from that freak show, so you must have known then that he is capable of doing much good. And I know that you spoke with him after my father's death – I remember him coming here."

"He was worried about you," Mrs. Giry admitted. "He wanted to keep an eye on you, to teach you like your father had wanted him to."

"You trusted him with me then," I pointed out. "Even aware, as I'm sure you were, of the circumstances surrounding my father's death." Mrs. Giry gave me a surprised look, and I continued. "Yes, he told me everything. There were no secrets. I almost left, too, after he told me. He was going to let me leave, but I…" My throat tightened, and I couldn't finish, remembering how I had found him ready to die to let me be happy. I didn't want to talk about that right now.

"Christine, will you tell us what happened?" Meg asked gently. "Help us understand what you're going through."

I didn't want to talk about it. The numbness was gone now and the pain welled up inside me again, clear and sharp like broken glass. "What happened? I love him, and you killed him," I said simply. "That's what happened."

Before anyone could say anything more, I fled to my room and slammed the door. Curled up in my cold, empty bed, I wept quietly until I finally succumbed to an exhausted, restless sleep.

**Meg's POV**

I couldn't sleep that night, despite how tired I felt. My thoughts were too jumbled and frantic to allow for sleep. I knew – and had known from the beginning – that I couldn't imagine what Christine was going through. I imagined that, no matter what may or may not have happened, these past months had to have been incredibly stressful and trying. And then today, everything had abruptly changed for her again. I couldn't deny that Christine had been a wreak since then, and I couldn't blame her – though at first I had just attributed it to the stress of everything she had gone through, I knew as I lay awake in bed that there was much more.

There truly had been a bond of some sort between her and Erik, though I couldn't understand it. He _had_ kidnapped her – I knew that for sure, and it only made their connection to each other more difficult to understand. Christine had been at least partially right earlier when she said that it was unfathomable that she could have been happy. Maybe she would talk to me when she was ready, and maybe then I could have some idea of what had gone on these past months.

Many ideas were already forming in my head, though, fuelled by the image of Christine distraught by the death of her kidnapper, wearing only his shirt and a ring that looked suspiciously like a wedding ring. Part of me wanted to believe that it wasn't some sort of sick, Stockholm-syndrome-caused situation. But at the same time, part of me – the very selfish part of me – did want to believe that. Because if it wasn't true, then I was responsible in part for the death of the man that my best friend loved.

Nadir came over the next day, true to his word, with a couple of boxes and, of all things, a beautiful Siamese cat.

"Christine isn't up yet," Mother said apologetically as she invited him in.

"Good," Nadir said. "It's best that she rests. How was she last night?"

"Not very well," I told him. "She sobbed most of the way home and was beyond comforting. She was hysterical. Then she was angry with us, told us that she loved Erik and we… we killed him."

Nadir looked away, pain in his eyes. "Give her time," he said quietly. "I don't know everything that happened between her and Erik, but she might be willing to talk about it eventually. This is Ayesha," he continued, setting the cat down on the floor. "I think she missed her owners – she howled all through the night. I've never heard a cat howl like that."

I bent down to pet Ayesha, but she brushed past me and went straight to the closed door to Christine's room, scratching on the door softly. The door opened just enough for the cat to slip inside, and then closed again without Christine even saying a word to us.

"Do you think Christine will be ok?" I asked Nadir quietly.

Nadir shook his head. "I hope so, but I don't know. It will take a while."

"Do you… do you think that there was really something between them – between her and Erik?"

"I believe that they loved each other very much," Nadir said simply before leaving and closing the door behind himself.

**Don't panic. Like I said, there will most definitely be a happy ending. Speaking of happy endings (except not really) who else loved Love Never Dies? I thought that they did a fantastic job with the production, and of course I love the music. Thoughts about that? Thoughts about the story? Review!**


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N: Hello, everyone! Sorry about the slight delay in updating – real life kinda took over this week, unfortunately. Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed! You all are wonderful! Enjoy the chapter!**

**Meg's POV**

"Christine," I called, knocking on the door to her room. "Nadir was here, and he brought by some boxes for you."

The door opened after a moment and Christine stood before me. She still wore Erik's shirt, and the dark circles under her eyes were made even more noticeable by the deathly pallor of her skin. Dull, tired eyes met mine; she looked exhausted to the very core. "You can come in," she said quietly, taking a box from my hands and leaving me to follow her in with the other.

Christine's room had been left completely unchanged during her absence, but now it seemed almost as lonely as it had when she was gone. It felt like something missing – a projection of how Christine felt, I knew. Ayesha was curled up at the foot of the bed, and I sat down next to her to let Christine sort through the boxes.

"What a beautiful cat," I told Christine.

"A birthday gift from Erik," she replied softly, her face betraying the pain she felt at even speaking his name. "He thought I'd like some company while he composed his opera." I didn't say anything else, and after a second Christine looked up at me and spoke again. "I'm not mad at you, not really," she said. "I know it wasn't your fault. I didn't mean what I said last night – I know you were only trying to do what you thought was best for me."

"I understand, Christine," I said, even though in truth I didn't understand any of this. "It's alright."

Kneeling down on the floor, Christine opened the first box. There were some clothes and jewelry, and I could tell even from a distance how fine everything was. Clearly Erik had only given her the best.

"Nadir said that he wasn't sure what you would want," I told her. "He said that if there's something that you want that he didn't get, he's only a phone call away."

"That's very nice of him," Christine said, her voice slightly choked as she hung the clothes in her small wardrobe and carefully laid out the jewelry with the few other pieces she owned.

When she opened the second box, her breath audibly caught in her throat. "What is it, Christine?" I asked gently.

Pain filled Christine's features. "The clothes he wore the day before you came," she managed to say. "The day that we –" Her voice faltered and she didn't go on. Pulling out a small pile of neatly-folded clothes, her eyes grew distant for a moment as she remembered, but before I could ask about it she pulled a white, vintage-looking dress out of the box.

"That's a beautiful dress," I said, though it obviously held much more significance to her than just beauty.

"Yes," she said so quietly that I barely heard her. "It is beautiful. Erik always knew just what would suit me perfectly."

Slowly, then, she reached into the box and pulled out one final object – a white mask.

"It's strange," she said softly, almost to herself. "I hated this mask when he wore it. Even when I had finally convinced him that I wasn't afraid of his face, it was still a struggle to get him not to wear it. But as much as I hated it, it was part of him, and it's one of the few precious things that I'm left with now."

Christine was slowly dissolving into tears, and I rushed to kneel on the floor beside her and wrap my arms around her trembling frame, gently rocking her back and forth like one would comfort a small child.

"What do I do now, Meg?" she sobbed. "What am I supposed to do without him?"

"I wish I could tell you," I said, stroking her hair soothingly. "I wish I could tell you something that would make you feel better, but I don't know."

"He can't be dead," Christine swore through her tears. "He wouldn't leave me like that."

"Just give yourself some time," I told her. "Give yourself some time to get over what you've been through. And I'm here, of course, if you ever want anyone to talk to."

"Thank you, Meg," Christine said softly as her tears began to subside. "And I will talk to you about it, I promise, it just… it just hurts too much right now."

For a while longer I stayed there, holding my best friend as she cried, wishing I could comfort her, wishing I understood.

**Christine's POV**

"Christine, Mother says that you and I should go out for a walk today. You've hardly even left your room in almost a week – you need a little fresh air." I looked up at Meg, who stood leaning in the doorway. "And no one's blaming you," she continued hastily. "It just isn't healthy."

"Alright," I consented. "But I don't feel like going into shops or anything; let's just walk. Just give me a minute to get dressed."

Soon I found myself back out in the city. Everything was just the same as it had always been, and I couldn't help but let it stir a slight fondness in me. Still, though, it did nothing to fill the hollowness that consumed me.

"Well, is there any particular place you'd like to walk to?" Meg asked.

I surprised even myself with my answer. "Could we walk to the theatre?"

Meg hesitated. "Well… if you think it would be alright," she said slowly, and I nodded.

We walked along the familiar streets, my feet carrying me automatically in the direction that we always walked. It didn't take us long to arrive at the theatre, and I found myself drawn inside. Meg made no comment, simply following me in with a wary expression. People stared as I walked down the halls, and it was hard not to pay them any mind. I imagined that Raoul had already informed anyone who might be even mildly interested of my situation – his version of it, of course. So I ignored the curious scrutiny and walked on, not entirely sure where I was headed until I reached my old dressing room.

"You can go in, if you'd like," Meg said, coming up behind me. "No one's touched it all there months – it just felt wrong to, I guess."

It was true, I discovered as I let myself in – everything was exactly as I had left it. I wandered the room in an almost trance-like state, just touching things and looking at things and remembering. A single red rose sat on the vanity, long-forgotten. The petals had crinkled and dried, turning darker so that they nearly looked black. A rose, once red but now black. It seemed fitting.

When I reached the mirror, my fingers automatically moved to open it, but Meg spoke.

"It's been walled off – the passageway. After you… disappeared… I was determined to find anything that might lead us to you," she explained. "I found that the mirror opened, but there was a wall behind it."

I looked for myself and, true enough, a wall stood closing off the passageway that Erik had once come and gone through.

"Is that how he took you, the night of your debut?" Meg asked softly.

"Yes," I said, before turning to her. "How much were you able to find out while you were searching?"

"He was behind all of the Opera Ghost stuff, wasn't he?" I nodded. "And that stagehand who died…?" Again, I could only nod in response, and Meg paled a little. Memories weighed heavily on me.

"He didn't always know the right thing to do," I said quietly. "All people ever showed him was hatred; he simply acted the way the world had taught him to." A moment passed silently before I spoke again. "Meg, could I have just a minute alone?" I asked, my voice sounding strangled.

"Of course," Meg said. "I'll just be outside when you're ready."

I waited until Meg had left and closed the door softly behind her before I sank down onto the sofa with my hand clasped tightly over my mouth as violent sobs shook me. I hated crying. It felt like that was all I had done for days, and I was beginning to wonder if I would ever be able to do anything else.

Even to myself, it was hard to admit that part of me had expected Erik to be here, waiting for me just like always. But of course he wasn't, and I felt the lack of his presence so profoundly that I could barely breathe. Loneliness was my sole companion here. The room around me was dim and hollow and utterly lifeless; I could practically see the ghosts of what once existed between these walls. I remembered every word with Erik, every look, every touch, as vividly as if it had only happened seconds ago.

But he was gone, and nothing told me so more than this room. What I wouldn't have given to go back to that time that felt like eternity ago, just so I could have him back.

**What do you think? So, obviously we're kinda going through an angst-y period here, but just bear with me and I promise that things will get better. **

**On a happier note, have a mentioned that my 18****th**** birthday is this week? And you know what would make my birthday completely amazing? Reviews! **


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N: Hello, dearest readers! Wow, we reached 200 reviews! That's incredible! Thank you so, so much to everyone who has helped us reach 200! I'll try to think of something special to do in honor of you guys. Thank you for the birthday wishes, too! I know that I was kind of slow to get this chapter up, and I'm really sorry about that, but hopefully it will be worth the wait. Enjoy!**

**Christine's POV**

"Raoul called again." I looked up at the sound of Meg's voice.

"What did he want this time?" I asked, although I really didn't care.

"He wanted to meet you for dinner this week."

"I wonder if it ever occurred to him that I'm not in the mood to go out with _anyone_ right now, or that I might actually be upset that he shot Erik." I sighed, wished vaguely that everything would just go away; I didn't care anymore. "I'll call him back later. I suppose I should try to explain things to him at least a little. Maybe then he'll leave me alone."

Meg nodded. "What did Nadir bring by earlier?"

A ghost of a smile fleeted across my lips, though it was only in memory of happiness I had felt before. "Pictures."

Meg lingered in the doorway for a second, unsure of what to say.

"Would you like to see them?" I asked finally.

Meg, still seeming a little hesitant, nodded and sat down next to me on the edge of my bed. Ayesha, who had become much more used to Meg in the past couple weeks, rubbed up against her in the hopes of being pet. Meg obliged, but her concerned eyes never left me.

I held out the small envelope of folders for Meg to take, and she carefully slid them out to look at. I couldn't read her expression as she examined the first few pictures in the small stack – pictures that Nadir had taken after Erik and I had married. We were both so obviously happy in the pictures, smiling and laughing. Erik kissed me on the cheek in one picture, and in another we were laughing in each other's arms, unaware of the camera. Meg's eyes fell to my lap, where my hands lay folded, to the ring that adorned my finger, but she said nothing. Her mouth fell open slightly, though, when she came to the pictures that Erik had snapped the next morning.

In those pictures I was laughing and grinning, my wild curls framing my face and the sheets haphazardly covering my body. There were a couple of blurry shots where I had tried to push the camera away or turn it on Erik. But the last picture in the stack was my favorite – it was the one of both of us that Erik had let me take. His arms were around me and I was curled contentedly into his chest. I grinned at the camera, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. Erik wasn't looking at the camera, though; he was smiling at me, his gaze so full of adoration that it almost hurt to see now.

"What I said in that letter I wrote to you was true," I told Meg softly, my words coming out jumbled as I tried to explain. "He did kidnap me from the part that night, but… I cared for him very deeply, and I had all along, only I didn't realize it. But I did realize it, after a while. It was hard to get Erik to believe me – he loved me more than anything in the world, but it seemed unimaginable to him that I might return his feelings." I looked up and met Meg's eyes. "I love him," I told her. "The day before you came, we married, vowed our love with Nadir as our witness."

"Oh my god," Meg breathed. "But I thought… I thought that you were afraid of him, and… and Raoul kept saying that all these horrible things must be happening to you…"

"Meg, I've already told you that I don't blame you," I said gently. "And Erik… he would never have hurt me. He never touched me before… before I wanted him to."

"I'm so sorry, Christine," Meg cried. "I should have just believed what you said in that letter. I should have believed Mother when she said that Erik wouldn't hurt you… I'm so sorry. I'm sure you'll never be able to forgive me, and I don't blame you."

"It's not your fault," I told her again.

"Yes it is," she insisted tearfully. "Raoul even said that he was going to kill Erik once we found the two of you, but I never thought that he actually meant it. Please believe me, Christine, I had no idea…"

"Meg," I said firmly. "I don't blame you. I hadn't told you anything about what I felt for Erik, what he was like. You couldn't have guessed that any of this was going to happen."

"Maybe you could tell me now," Meg suggested softly. "Maybe it will help."

I nodded, hoping that maybe she was right. Then I told her everything from the very beginning.

**Erik's POV**

I was blind, coarse cloth tied tightly over my eyes, but I was aware of everything around me. They had left me alone, but wherever I was, it was heavily guarded from the outside. As if I had any real chance of getting out of here; I was allowed only as much to eat and drink as would keep me barely alive. I was weak, and my body ached, but I couldn't move – zip-ties secured my legs and arms, cutting into my wrists and letting thin trails of bold run down my hands. There was a constant, agonizing pain in my side where the bullet had entered. It was a miracle I hadn't died of blood loss or an infection yet, but I knew they wouldn't let that happen. I was no good if I was dead.

_De Changy stood a few yards from me, the gun in his hand unwavering. We were silent as we watched the Daroga take Christine away. Her desperate eyes looked back at me until she disappeared from sight, pleading with me to make everything alright again._

"_You're even more hideous than I expected," the boy regarded me coolly._

"_I could say the same about you," I retorted, and an amused expression crossed his face._

_ "It seems that I have finally succeeded in what my father attempted for over a decade: cornering you. Getting you at gunpoint. You have no way out, Erik. Your cockiness has finally gotten you caught."_

"_Cockiness?" I questioned with a raised eyebrow._

_ "You evaded our grasp so long, you got confidant and careless. You became bolder. You even went so far as to kidnap my girlfriend."_

_ I scoffed. "You think I brought Christine here to taunt you? You need to learn that not everything is about you, boy."_

_ "What would you have me believe, then?" de Changy asked sardonically. "That you're capable of feeling and you love her? That you haven't been torturing and raping her all these months, stealing my property?"_

_ "You really think that this is about you," I said with genuine disbelief. "Don't try to flatter yourself, boy – I couldn't care less about you. I washed my hands of your filthy family long ago."_

"_You were never supposed to get out," de Changy said coldly. "And now I'm going to fix that."_

_ The gun fired and pain exploded in me. I dropped to the floor, blood running down my side and spilling onto the white marble. Two men seized me roughly from behind and started to drag me away._

_ "Don't let his blood leave a trail," de Changy instructed. "We don't want anyone snooping around thinking that he could still be alive. Let it look like he bled out here on the floor and you carried his corpse away."_

_ My thoughts grew hazy as I watched Raoul walk away, but I could have sworn that I could hear Christine screaming for me._

Harsh, bright light flooded my senses as the blindfold was yanked roughly off my head. When my eyes adjusted, I could see de Changy standing before me. I couldn't see any guards around him, but I knew they couldn't be far off."

"Still alive, I see," came the boy's cruel voice.

"You know, with all the security measures you've taken, the blindfold seems like overkill, doesn't it?" I asked sarcastically.

"With you, we can never be too careful," he replied. "So, got anything new you've decided to tell me today?"

I chuckled bitterly. "I don't know what you think I took from you all those years ago. When I left, it was because I wanted nothing more to do with your family."

"But you knew everything about us. We can't have you just running around with all this dangerous information."

When I refused to say more, de Changy punched me right where he had shot me. I gasped at the pain of it, but refused to grant him more satisfaction than that. His mouth drew into a hard line at my lack of reaction, and then, to add insult to injury, he spoke.

"I took your precious Christine to dinner last night." When I still remained silent, he continued. "It's funny, Erik – you act like the two of you were in love or something sick like that. So considering you've hardly been dead for a few weeks, I'd say she got over you pretty quickly, wouldn't you? Almost like she didn't have any feelings for you at all, except, perhaps, hatred and disgust."

My expression remained stoic, revealing nothing of the fury that welled up inside of me. This was the worst torture he could inflict upon me – talking about Christine like this

"Yes," he continued. "It will be nice to show off what is rightfully mind again."

"You keep your hands off her," I spat. Of course I knew that Christine must hate him, believing that he had killed me, but I got the feeling that de Changy would take every advantage to be with her, and the idea of it was beyond repulsive.

"No," he replied calmly. "I don't think I will. And, just for kicks, I'll make sure to tell you every detail."

"Go to hell."

De Changy chuckled humorlessly. "It seems you're already there, my friend."

With that, I was left again in darkness. I had to find a way out of this. I had to get back to Christine.

**Erik's alive! It felt really good to write from his perspective again. So what do you think? Please review!**


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N: Hello, everyone! How on earth have I gone so long without updating? I blinked and two weeks had passed! Hopefully this won't become typical, but it's hard to say what school will be like for the next few weeks until graduation. As always, I'd like to give a huge thanks to everyone who reviewed! Without you, updates would definitely be coming much less frequently. Enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

I sighed, stirring the ice in my glass with my straw and looking blandly at the young man who sat across from me, who still had yet to notice my discomfort. _I don't like him,_ I decided. Raoul hadn't stopped talking for longer than it took him to take a breath, and I had been unable to get a word in edgewise. In fact, this was the third time I had been out with him like this, and I still hadn't been able to say what I wanted to say. Each time I had returned home more and more frustrated, yet somehow I always ended up right back in this situation. And I was tired of it.

"Raoul," I said, the force in my voice making him stop talking. "I can't keep going out with you like this. I hope you understand."

"Of course I know that this has all been very hard on you," Raoul jumped in before I had really finished speaking. "I understand that you're probably nervous to be going out again – it's been so long since you've been able to have a normal relationship like this – but soon things will be back to the way they were."

"That's not what I mean." I tiredly ran a hand through my hair. I had been so exhausted lately, like the life had been completely sucked out of me, and this was certainly not helping. "Raoul, I know it's hard for you to understand, and it's hard for me to try to explain –"

"You don't have to explain, Christine," Raoul said, reaching across the table to try to take my hand, which I quickly moved out of his reach to my lap. "I can imagine all the horrible things you've gone through, what that monster did to you –"

"Don't you ever talk about Erik like that!" I snapped, then lowered my voice upon observing the large number of people that glanced curiously at us. "I don't want to cause a scene in this restaurant, so please just listen to me for a minute," I said firmly. "I know you don't understand the bond between Erik and me, and I know that you have some ideas about what happened and that nothing I say will change your mind. But I hope you can understand that I can't continue having someone in my life who killed another I cared for very deeply."

There were a few harsher thoughts that I wanted to share, but I bit my tongue and tried to keep a little civility about me.

Raoul sighed. "Christine, you have got to stop trying to defend the man who kidnapped and raped you."

"Erik never –"

"I think it's nice how you always try to find the good in people, Christine, by if you're ever going to get over this, you need to be able to accept that what he did to you was wrong. You can't keep defending and justifying it."

"I know that his kidnapping me was wrong, but he would never –"

"Christine!" Raoul snapped. Then, his face showing much more kindness than his eyes, he said, "I'm sure you're tired. How selfish of me to keep you out late. Let me take you home, and we can finish this conversation another night."

I couldn't say a word on the walk home – I was so frustrated, and I didn't want to risk saying the cruel things I was thinking. It was almost as if Raoul was intentionally not hearing me, not believing what I said. But of course he wouldn't do that. He just didn't understand, and I was trying hard to not hate him for killing Erik. I would just let myself calm down, and I'd try talking to him again soon. I'd figure out how to make him listen to me. He would have to hear me out eventually, and it wasn't like I particularly cared how I spent my life at that point. I was basically just killing time until I died, so why should I care if I spent the rest of my life trying to get Raoul to listen to me?

We reached the door to my apartment, and the lack of any noise from within told me that Meg and Mrs. Giry must still be at the theatre. I moved to unlock the door, but Raoul put his hand over mine to stop me. I looked up at him questioningly, but before I could speak, his mouth covered mine, his body pinning me against the door. I struggled, trying to push him away, trying to squirm free, trying to do anything except kiss him but he only gripped my tighter. It took all my strength to shove him away, and still he took a step back towards me.

"Please don't touch me," I said sharply enough to keep him from coming any closer. Before he could say anything, I had stepped inside the dark apartment and slammed the door behind me.

Then I ran to the bathroom and threw up.

**Erik's POV**

The boy stopped by to see me that night – a not so welcomed visit. "Hello, Erik," he said coolly. "You're looking worse for the wear."

"Come to interrogate me again for information that I don't have and which your men have been attempting to beat out of me?" The coarseness of my voice surprised me, and I wondered how long ago I was last given water. A day? Two?

He shook his head and chuckled. "I'll leave that task to my men – they've failed to get information, but the beating part seems to be pretty successful. No, tonight I've simply come to chat." He stopped and examined me for a moment longer. "You really do look like death itself, at least more than usual. When was the last time you had anything to eat?"

"I don't know."

De Changy held out a bit of bread and a bottle of water, knowing that my hands were still bound and I could not reach for then. Then he shrugged as if I had refused them and set them to the side, making sure I could still see them.

"If your new tactic is bribing me with food for information that I still do not have, it won't work any better than beating me within an inch of my life," I told him stubbornly.

"Oh, I know that. Like I said, I'm just here to chat." He paused, trying to read my expression. "Aren't you going to ask me how your precious Christine is? You made such a show about pretending to care for her that I would have thought you'd be a lot more interested."

I refused to let my face betray my inner torment. Of course I was worried about Christine. She was all that filled my mind. "I'm not interested in any of the lies you'll try to tell me," I replied, matching the boy's cool demeanor.

"I took her out again tonight. That's three times, now. And you've only been dead… how long? A little over a month? Clearly she's completely brokenhearted."

I tried not to listen, but little doubts were starting to creep into my mind, telling me that Christine was just like everyone else and that she had only thought she cared about me because I had manipulated her into it. The rest of the world hated me – why should Christine be any different? Stubbornly, I shook the thought from my mind. It wasn't true, what he said. He was lying.

De Changy could tell that his words had hit a nerve, and he continued. "Such a beautiful girl. Quite a good kisser, too. She's got the softest lips… Not that she's ever kissed you willingly, of course. She's something else entirely when she wants to kiss you, like she kissed me tonight."

My hands clenched tightly into fists. That bastard was talking about kissing my wife._ My wife_.

He smiled cruelly. "What's wrong, Erik? Does it bother you that Christine is so unaffected by your death? Or does it just bother you that I have her and you don't? If I wanted to, I could fuck her, you know. I think I'd like that. She'd be so willing, so yielding…"

"If you so much as lay a finger on her, I swear I will kill you."

The boy just laughed. "So possessive. No wonder she was so terrified of you."

I clenched my jaw shut, using all of my strength to keep from giving him the satisfaction I would surely give him if I responded. After a moment of silence, he appeared bored and turned to leave, but not before shoving the bread and water into me lap.

"Eat. I'd like you alive for a while longer."

**Who's up for an I Hate the Fop party now? I know I am! Anyway, what do you think? Please, please, please review! **


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N: Hello, dearest readers! I figured I should update now since I didn't update last weekend and won't be able to this weekend. As always, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! Your continued support of this story has been absolutely incredible, and I'm working on figuring out how to thank you. Hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

I didn't feel any better the next day.

If anything, I felt worse. I awoke groggily at a far-too-early hour with my head throbbing and my body aching, and the nausea still had not passed.

"Just stay in bed and rest today, dear," Mrs. Giry told me gently. "I'm not surprised that all this stress has finally caught up with you."

I spent the morning sleeping intermittently, and by early afternoon I was feeling better. Meg refused to let me get up, though, and instead stayed at my bedside to visit with me.

"Raoul called again while you were asleep," she said, and I cringed.

"He won't listen to me. It's hard enough to explain what I feel to him, and he just keeps on like I never said a word." I let out a frustrated huff and sank back into bed. "I feel like he just doesn't want to hear me, you know? – he just doesn't want to know the truth. And he says horrible things about Erik, too."

Meg shook her head sympathetically. "He never knew Erik, Christine, and you know that what he says isn't true. Try not to think anything of it."

"And then last night, he…" I found my throat constricting as sobs threatened. "He kissed me and I tried to push him away but I couldn't and then I just felt so dirty and awful knowing that… that I had betrayed Erik with the man who killed him and –"

"Hush, Christine," Meg said gently, pulling me to her to hold me as I cried. "It's not your fault. You didn't want to kiss him, and you fought against him; there was no betrayal."

"What would Erik think of me? What would he say?"

"I'm sure he would be very proud of you," Meg told me. "You've been so strong and brave through all of this."

"I don't know if I can do it anymore," I confided. "I don't know if I can just live the rest of my life without him."

Meg pulled back so she could look me in the eyes. "Christine, don't talk like that," she said seriously. "I can't imagine… I mean, if you were gone…"

Seeing the fear on her face, I immediately felt a stab of guilt. "I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I've been so selfish, I forget that there are other people involved – that I'm not the only one who's been affected."

Meg held me tighter. "You're not being selfish. But you just can't think like that. Do you think Erik would want you to just give up living?"

I thought for a moment then shook my head. Meg was right. Erik would want me to live the best life I could. I promised myself silently that as soon as I felt better, I would deal with Raoul, make sure that he understood me. And after that, maybe I could rejoin the chorus at the theatre, and eventually perform as a soloist again. I could sing for Erik again. Just the thought was so uplifting that I felt better than I had in over a month.

"I'll sing for him again," I said determinedly, and Meg smiled.

"You will sing for him again," she promised. "From what you've told me, I think that's exactly what he would have wanted."

When Meg left me to rest a little while later, I was still feeling encouraged. Things were going to get better, I could tell. I would make things better. Because that's what Erik would have wanted. I could hear his voice singing to me, resounding in my mind and heart and soul as I drifted back off into sleep.

**Meg's POV**

I thought that Christine would get better after our conversation – she had already looked so much better, a bit of a color returning to her cheeks and light returning to her eyes. But I was wrong. The next day she said she felt worse, and as soon as I asked her if she wanted anything to eat, she was running for the bathroom. By that afternoon, she thought she was feeling better again, but she was sick again the next day. This had gone on for a week when Mother suggested she see a doctor.

"No, I'm fine, really," Christine objected. "It's just the flu. It will pass."

Mother looked like she wanted to say something more but decided against it. Christine, too, looked a little distracted, like she was trying very hard not to think about something and thus that thing stubbornly filled her mind. But Mother let the subject drop and it was not brought up again, at least not in my presence.

Raoul kept calling, too. Christine asked us not to answer it – she wanted to wait until she was feeling better so she could talk to him herself. I kept asking her if she was sure, if we could at least tell him to stop calling, but she was adamant that it needed to come from her. She felt responsible for this mess, she said, so she needing to take care of it herself and that when she had the strength to do so, she would. When I asked her what she meant, she simply said that she had never talked to Raoul about what Erik meant to her, which was why he could only assume the worst about her kidnapping.

One day, though, I was by myself when the phone rang; Mother was at the theatre, and Christine had gone out, mumbling something about going to pick up some medicine. I answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Raoul," I said. "This is Meg. No, Christine is not available and, no, you should not try to call back later."

"What's your problem?" Raoul asked, sounding slightly confused but mostly annoyed.

"My problem is that you keep calling our house to harass Christine," I snapped. "She wants to talk to you, Raoul, to try to explain what she feels. I don't know why she's so determined to talk to you herself, but she is." I heard Christine enter the apartment and turning to see her slipping into her room.

"Why are you being so defensive?" Raoul asked. "Aren't we friends? Without me, you wouldn't have Christine back."

"I'll leave that for her to talk to you about," I said. "Look, I promise that she will call you when she's ready, and you'll just have to be prepared to actually listen to what she's saying. In the meantime, please. Stop. Calling."

Hanging up the phone with a satisfying click, I turned to find Christine, figuring that I should tell her what I had said to Raoul.

"Christine?" I called. "I just got off the phone with –" I pushed open the door to her room, but she wasn't there. I had to look around for a second before I noticed that the bathroom door was closed.

"Christine, are you ok?" I asked as I knocked on the door, worried that she might be sick again. No answer came, though; there was no sound or sign of movement, so after a minute I hesitantly opened the door.

I almost didn't see Christine. She was sitting on the floor with her back against the wall and her knees drawn up to her chest. I squinted to try to make out what she was holding; it looked like a digital thermometer. Was her illness getting worse? She didn't look up as I entered, and she said nothing. I wondered if she even noticed me standing there.

"Christine, if you have a fever, maybe you should go back to bed," I suggested. "You really look pale. Are you dizzy? Do you need help getting up? Where did you put that medicine you got at the pharmacy?"

Christine shook her head vaguely. "I'm alright," she said, but she spoke so quietly that I almost didn't hear her. She still didn't look at me – her unfocused gaze remained straight ahead of her.

I sighed and rolled my eyes – she was quite clearly _not_ alright – and moved to try to help her stand. But I froze when I got a closer look at what she was holding. It wasn't a thermometer. And there was no mistaking that little pink plus sign.

**What do you think? I'll update again as soon as I can, but the next few weeks are looking pretty hectic, so I can't make any promises as to just how soon that will be. Please review!**


	46. Chapter 46

**A/N: Hello, my wonderful, endlessly patient readers! I cannot stress how sorry I am about the wait for this chapter. I'm really not sure how it happened. But the good news is that the last few weeks of utter craziness are over and I have about a week of school left, so I should theoretically have a lot more writing time now. As always, thank you so, so much to everyone who reviewed! Without you, this update would probably not be arriving this soon. So thank you! Enjoy the chapter – hopefully it's worth the wait!**

**Christine's POV**

A few minutes passed, and Meg and I said nothing. I had been starting to suspect, and I knew that Mrs. Giry suspected, too, but I had never actually given the idea any serious thought. It just seemed too far-fetched that I would be… But here I was, sitting on the bathroom floor, staring down at that little plus sign that seemed to stand out above all else. I couldn't look away from it; my mind was racing, still trying to process this.

_I'm pregnant._

The thought didn't sound right, no matter how many times I ran it through my mind. I was only 19, and my husband was dead, and I was pregnant! It was terrifying.

Maybe that was why I had refused to go to the doctor when Mrs. Giry had suggested it – I was terrified of what I would find out. The idea of being pregnant scared me senseless, but finding out I wasn't pregnant would have been its own kind of pain, too. Knowing for sure that I would never have even the smallest bit of Erik in my life again would have been hell.

I looked up at Meg with wide eyes as the thought dawned on me. "This is Erik's child," I said, and Meg gave me a look as if to say, _Well, I would hope that much is obvious._ "This is Erik's child," I repeated. "He isn't completely gone. I have part of him with me."

Meg's lips curved into a slight smile. She understood.

"I'll be able to give our child everything that Erik never had," I continued, joy beginning to mingle with the lingering shock. "I'll be able to give out son or daughter the loving home that Erik was deprived of."

Suddenly there was once again a future stretching out before me, and it didn't seem so utterly and hopelessly empty. Erik's child – our child – gave me purpose again.

"You'll have to tell Mother, you know," Meg pointed out. "She'll know how to take care of you and the baby and everything like that."

"I'll tell her tonight," I promised. "I… I guess I don't know how she'll react, but I wouldn't want to keep it from her. And besides, she'll know what to do. You and I don't know anything about pregnancy."

"I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' babies," Meg drawled in a fake southern accent, and we laughed together. It felt so good to laugh.

I felt good, I realized. Unsure of myself and completely terrified, but good. There was hope now.

"So, you're completely sure that you're pregnant?" Meg asked cautiously after a second. "How accurate are those tests?"

"I followed the directions exactly, so it should be accurate," I said.

Our joking was forgotten as we considered the seriousness of the situation. Meg sat down on the floor beside me. "So… are you ok?"

I thought for a moment. "Yeah. I think so," I told her. "I mean, I don't think I've really processed it yet, so I don't really know. This just seems so unreal. It's hard for me to imagine being a mother, especially on my own."

"You'll never be on your own, Christine," Meg said gently. "You'll always have Mother and me."

"I know I will, but… you know what I mean," I said quietly, tears suddenly blurring my vision. My voice was choked when I spoke again. "I think Erik would have made a wonderful dad."

Meg comfortingly put her arm around me and I rested my head on her shoulder, wiping the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand. Neither of us said anything for a moment, and slowly I was able to see past the grief and utter loneliness again and thoughts began to regain their coherency.

"But I'm happy," I said with conviction despite the shakiness that remained in my voice. "I want this baby. I want a son or daughter to love like I would have loved Erik. …Like I still love him. I think I just need a little more time before it fully sets in."

Meg nodded. "Maybe it will help to tell Mother," she said. "Mother always knows what to do. Maybe it won't seem so overwhelming."

"I hope so," I said, smiling a little. "I get the feeling that I'll need all the help I can get."

**Meg's POV**

Christine and I glanced at each other from across the table as we sat down at dinner that night. She shifted nervously in her chair, and I tried to give her a look of encouragement. I knew that she wanted Mother to know that she was pregnant, but she was clearly nervous about actually sharing the news. A few seconds passed, and Christine cleared her throat.

"Mrs. Giry," she said, her voice expressing a calm that I was sure she didn't feel. "There's something I need to tell you." Mother met her eyes and waited for her to continue, her face betraying nothing. Christine took a breath. "Today I found out that I'm pregnant."

Mother was silent for a moment, but her face remained serene. "I suspected as much," she said finally. "Have you gone to see a doctor?" Christine shook her head. "I will make an appointment for you, then. I will go with you if you'd like."

Christine's expression relaxed a little. "I would like that a lot," she said. "I don't really know anything about pregnancy and I'm… scared, I guess. Your help would mean a lot to me."

Mother's face softened. "Then I will be happy to help you in any way I can. …Do you know about how far along you might be?"

Christine blushed a little and muttered, "A little less than two months. I know that for sure."

The doctor confirmed this a couple of days later. I stayed in the waiting room while Mother and Christine went back into the exam room, but when they emerged Christine was genuinely smiling.

"I never thought that I could be so completely happy, sad, and terrified all at once," she told me. "I… I didn't think I could miss him any more than I have, but…" she sniffled and blinked back tears. "But I think he would have been happy. And he would want me to be happy and focus on the baby."

On the way home we stopped to get the vitamins that the doctor had recommended, and as we walked out of the store, Mother brought up a topic that we had all been careful to avoid even thinking about.

"Christine," she began gently. "I assume that this is your first pregnancy…?"

"It is."

"Well, I am sure that everything will be just fine, but… be very cautious this next month or so, just in case. Many women miscarry during their first trimester and, like I said, I'm sure everything will be just fine, but I just want you to be aware."

Christine had paled a little, and I couldn't imagine how the idea of losing the baby must have frightened her. In her mind, I knew, she had part of Erik back now that she knew she was pregnant, and losing the baby would devastate her. It would be like losing Erik again, only worse.

"Thank you," Christine said after a moment. "I'm sure I'll be fine, too, but I will be careful."

As we walked, I noticed that her hand unconsciously came to rest protectively on her stomach.

We got home to find another message from Raoul on the phone. Christine sighed. "I've got to start getting my life together," she said with determination, almost to herself. "For the baby's sake. I don't want Raoul to be involved. Maybe someday, when I've forgiven him, but not yet."

"Do you want me to call him and tell him in no uncertain terms to get lost?" I offered, more than happy to help out.

Christine shook her head. "I'll go talk to him tomorrow," she said. "I don't know what I'll tell him, but I'll talk to him. Maybe I'll actually be able to get him to listen."

**What do you think? Please, please, please review! And I promise that I will update much more quickly this time!**


	47. Chapter 47

**A/N: Hello, everyone! It's so nice to be updating again so soon! I've finished AP testing (4 hours of calculus was not fun) and I had my last orchestra concert last night, so I should be pretty much done with school now, which means that I have more time to write! As always, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed!**

**I would like to apologize in advance. Please don't hate me. I promise that things start getting much, much better very soon. This chapter is just the low point before things start turning around. So please don't hate me.**

**Christine's POV**

The next day, I walked to Raoul's apartment as soon as the morning sickness had passed. Maybe apartment wasn't the right word for where Raoul lived. It was a rather large, two-storied place that I had only seen once or twice before. I had never felt comfortable there and had become reasonable skilled in rejecting Raoul's offers to go back to his place. I felt no more comfortable now as I approached the building, but I pushed the feeling aside. I had to talk to Raoul, and I refused to put it off any longer.

Raoul let me in, seeming unsurprised by my visit. He led me to the sitting room on the second floor – a small but sunny room with great views of the city, and the room in the apartment that I liked best – and when he leaned in to kiss me I turned my face so he could only kiss my cheek.

"Raoul, there's something that I really need to talk to you about, and it would mean a lot to me if you could just hear me out," I told him.

Sitting down on the sofa, Raoul motioned for me to sit next to him. "What is it, Christine?"

"I just… I don't think that I can keep seeing you, at least for now," I said. "I'm sure it's hard for you to understand, but… all you really need to know is that, despite what you think, I did care for Erik very deeply and you killed him without even giving me a chance to explain that I didn't want you to. And I know that you were only doing what you thought was right, but I… I just can't forgive you for it yet, and until I can I just think it would be better if we didn't see each other. Does that make sense?"

Raoul looked at me somewhat incredulously. "And you've just decided this out of the blue?"

"No," I admitted. "I've been trying to talk to you about it for a while, but I never seemed to be able to really say it."

Raoul shook his head, his eyes narrowing slightly in accusation. "There's more to it than that," he said. "I can tell. You didn't just decide to tell me now for no reason. You're hiding something."

"I am not hiding anything," I insisted. "I was just tired of not being able to talk to you about this. I was fed up with not being heard. That's all."

Raoul grabbed me around the wrist, forcing me to stay sitting where I was. "Don't lie to me, Christine," he said. "I know there has to be more to it than that."

"Let go of me," I said firmly. "You're hurting me."

His grip tightened and I tried to pull away, but he held on fiercely, his nails digging painfully into my skin.

"Let me go!" I repeated, anger and panic rising simultaneously inside of me.

"Tell me, Christine," Raoul said calmly, starting to twist my arm into an unnatural position. "What are you trying to keep from me?"

"Nothing! I've told you everything I have to say! Now let go of me!"

I gasped as Raoul twisted my arm more painfully. "Tell me, Christine. Why this sudden change of heart?"

"I'm pregnant!" I gasped when it felt like my arm was about to come out of its socket. Raoul released me, and I quickly stood up and backed toward the stairs. I wanted to leave – something felt wrong.

Much to my surprise, Raoul just looked at me and chuckled. "You little whore."

"Why would you –" I stuttered, my mind racing. Raoul had made it clearly known countless times before that he was sure if anything happened between Erik and me it had been against my will, and he had been strong and unchanging in this opinion. If that was what he believed, then why would he blame me for being pregnant? The feeling that something was off flared up stronger inside of me. "I thought you believed he was raping me," I said, careful to keep my voice steady.

Raoul appeared amused. "And was he?"

Rage suddenly burned through me. "Not that I owe you any explanation, but no, I was never raped. Erik would never do that. I've avoided the subject because first of all, I don't feel like my life is any of your business – especially not now – and second of all, it's a difficult subject to try to broach with someone who murdered my husband!"

No hint of surprise crossed Raoul's face, though jealousy flashed in his eyes. I was almost tempted to tell him just how consensual it was, but I kept my mouth shut – the look in Raoul's eyes frightened me. It was the same look I saw in his eyes when he held Erik at gunpoint.

"I'm leaving now," I said quickly. "I have nothing more to say to you."

I turned to go but Raoul quickly moved to block my path. "Actually, I think there is much more that we need to discuss. How do you like knowing that you're carrying that monster's child, Christine? Is that what you want?"

Reality dawned on me with terrible certainty. "You… you never believed any of those awful things you said about Erik, did you? That's why you're not surprised! You knew that I was safe and that I cared about him, but you were jealous! And you killed him! You killed him!"

Raoul gripped my shoulders tightly and met my furious gaze. I struggled against him, trying to get away, my hands groping for the stair railing.

And then I was falling.

I could feel Raoul standing over me, his presence calm and indifferent, as I lay at the bottom of the stairs. I don't know how much time passed like that. My entire body hurt, but above anything else I was aware of the pains that were starting to shoot through my abdomen. Eventually I could vaguely hear Raoul's voice as he called an ambulance.

"Yes, there's been an accident. My friend fell down a flight of stairs. I didn't see how it happened."

His voice sounded panicked, but when he returned to stand over me, I could once again feel his indifference.

"I'm sorry, Christine," he said, though his voice betrayed no such feeling. "But I think it's for the best."

**Erik's POV**

When de Changy arrived that night, he looked quite pleased with himself. This worried me, but I was resolved not to give any thought to whatever he was here to tell me. He regarded me silently for a moment, examining the bruises and gashes that were in various states of healing – evidence that his men had been faithfully carrying out his orders to beat out of me information that I did not have.

"What a day," he said finally. "It's always so tiring to spend the day at the hospital."

I said nothing, and my disinterest didn't seem to bother him.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I was at the hospital all day?" he asked. "It's the polite thing to do, you know."

"No."

"Well, I'll tell you anyway. I think this might interest you. Christine had a bit of an accident. Or, rather, she informed me about an accident and then had another."

My resolve not to listen was already gone. Christine was in the hospital? The boy must have seen the fear on my face because a look of satisfaction crossed his face and he continued.

"It was quite interesting, actually – what she told me about. She came to tell me that she couldn't get over the fact that I had killed you and she didn't want to see me anymore."

"Good girl."

"I could tell that there was more to it than that, though. She was hiding something, and I was eventually able to force it out of her. For a little while I was worried that she knew you're alive, but it was nothing like that. She said she was pregnant."

This caught me off-guard, and I was sure my shock showed plainly on my face. Christine was… Could she really be pregnant? I needed to get to her. I needed to be there, to take care of her. I had to figure out how to get safely away from here, and I would take Christine far away too so the boy wouldn't be able to find us. Christine was pregnant… and I was going to be a father and I had to protect my family. It was too much to take in.

"I find it interesting how the idea of parenthood seems to soften people," de Changy said as he watched me. "You didn't let me finish my story, though. Don't you want to know why your Christine is in the hospital?"

My first thought was that he was lying – that Christine was fine and not in the hospital – but a terrible sense of foreboding gripped me and made me listen to the boy's words.

"Like I said, there was an accident. Christine fell down a flight of stairs. I called an ambulance and went to the hospital. She's pretty banged up, but no broken bones or anything. And, fortunately, I believe it's better this way."

I was seething with rage at the casualness in his voice. I knew this was what he wanted, but the words were coming out of my mouth before I could stop them. "What do you mean? What could possibly be made better by this?"

"Christine won't have to worry about raising a monster's child anymore," de Changy said with satisfaction before turning to leave.

My thoughts froze; my breath caught in my throat. Did he mean…? _He's lying,_ I repeated over and over in my head. _It isn't true._ It couldn't be true. Christine was fine, and if the boy hadn't made up her pregnancy, the baby was fine, too. He had simply made up this story for the same reason he had kept me here for nearly two months – to torture me for his own cruel, vindictive pleasure.

But what if he wasn't lying? Grief and rage consumed me. I needed to get to Christine. It was all I could think. My wife needed me. There was no time to plan, as I had been trying to. There was no time to figure out how to get away unnoticed for as long as possible. If I got out alive, de Changy would have his men hunting me immediately, and I was weak from injuries and lack of food and water. It would be dangerous to say the least, and there was a good chance that I would never actually make it to Christine. But I didn't care.

I had to get back to Christine, and I would do whatever it took.

**Please don't hate me. Remember my promise that things will take a dramatic turn for the better very, very soon. Possibly the next chapter. Reviews will motivate me to update sooner! **

**PS: Who wants to have a kill the fop party with me?**


	48. Chapter 48

**A/N: Hello, my lovely readers! School is out, so hopefully I will have a lot more writing time now. As always, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! Like I promised last time, things will take a dramatic turn for the better for our favorite couple. Enjoy!**

**Meg's POV**

I was just beginning to think that Christine had been gone longer than I had expected when my cell phone rang. "Hello?"

"Meg, it's Raoul. There's been an accident. The paramedics just came and I'm following the ambulance to the hospital."

"Raoul, slow down," I said. "What do you mean there's been an accident? What's wrong?"

"It's Christine. She fell down the stairs."

My breath caught and my chest tightened as panic filled me. "I'll call my mom," I said quickly. "We'll be at the hospital as soon as we can."

Hanging up without another word, I had to take a deep breath as I dialed Mother's phone number. _Everything will be ok,_ I told myself. _Everything will be ok._

Within a few minutes, Mother and I were on our way to the hospital. Neither of us spike, though I noticed that Mother was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. It seemed like ages later that we finally made it to the hospital. Raoul was waiting for us outside and led us into the waiting room.

"What's happened?" Mother asked him. "Meg said that Christine fell."

"She did," Raoul said, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. "I'm not really sure how it happened. She must have gotten light-headed or something – she told me that she was pregnant. She was just walking and the next thing I knew, she was on the floor."

Mother nodded, and that was the end of the conversation. Time stood still as we sat in that bland waiting room, hoping that someone would tell us something soon. Mother filled out the paperwork she was given. Raoul stared straight ahead, his face expressionless. I watched the clock on the wall tick away the seconds, idly wondering what it was about hospital waiting rooms that was so depressing because as long as I was thinking about that I didn't have to wonder about Christine.

I don't know if I was relieved or just more terrified when a doctor finally appeared and asked to speak with Mother. They took a few steps away from Raoul and me and spoke for a few minutes in tones too soft for us to hear. Then the doctor left again and Mother turned to deliver the news to us. Her voice was steady as she spoke, but her face was pinched.

"The doctor said that Christine has a minor concussion and some bad bruising, but no broken bones or anything like that. She'll recover. But… the stress from the last couple months certainly hasn't been good for her health, and it probably weakened her body quite a bit. And combined with the trauma from the fall… has induced a miscarriage."

My heart stopped when Mother said the word, and all I could think was, _No, that's impossible._ And it truly did seem impossible. I thought that Christine would finally have some happiness in her life again, after everything that she had gone through. That baby was all the hope, all the joy that she had left, and now that had been taken away from her too. It wasn't fair! Raoul just sat expressionlessly next to me, almost as if he was unaffected by the tragedy.

"Can we see her?" I asked.

"They put her on some pain medication, so she's a little out of it right now, but the doctor said that we can see her."

I followed close behind Mother as the three of us made out way back to Christine's room. I could hear her crying before we were even in the room, and I could almost feel my heart breaking. She was reclined in the hospital bed, an IV in her arm. Tear streamed down her cheeks, and when she looked up at us, her eyes were glazed and unfocused. Mother went to her side and gently took her hand. "Christine, sweetheart…"

"I'm sorry, Erik," Christine muttered brokenly through her tears. "I'm so sorry."

Mother and I shared a helpless look as I fought back tears. "I… I'm going to call Nadir," I said, excusing myself from the room. "He should know what's going on."

As soon as I was out of the room and around the corner I let the sobs come. The image of Christine lying in a hospital bed, crying and apologizing to her dead husband for losing their baby was too much. All of this seemed too much to bear, and I couldn't do anything about it. There was nothing I could do for my best friend when she needed me most. Really, she didn't even need me. She needed Erik. And there was nothing I could do about that, either.

After a few minutes I was able to calm down enough to call Nadir and explain what was happening, and he promised that he would be at the hospital as soon as he could. I went back to Christine's room then to find her asleep as Mother gently stroked her hair. Raoul stood in the corner, just watching and saying nothing. I pulled up a chair next to Mother at Christine's bedside and sank tiredly down into it.

"Nadir's on his way," I told Mother, and she nodded. Christine whimpered a little in her sleep, and I took her hand and held it firmly in both of mine. "What will we do, Mother?"

Mother looked at me sadly. "I don't know. She has a hard road ahead of her – coming to terms with this and finding purpose again."

Nadir arrived a little while later, his dark eyes filled with sadness as he unexpectedly pulled both me and then Mother into a hug. We sat with Christine the rest of the day, and though she awoke a little more lucid than before, she said nothing and kept her eyes downcast, tears running silently down her cheeks. The doctor informed us that they wanted to keep her here at least another day to make sure she was recovering properly, and it was with great reluctance that we left her that night, promising to return as soon as visitors were allowed the next day. Christine only nodded and muttered something in appreciation.

It killed me to look back at the lonely, grief-stricken girl that we were leaving.

**Christine's POV**

I was in the hospital for another night after that, and was apparently in satisfactory enough condition to go home the following day. The pains had ended, though my body was covered in bruises and moving was unpleasant.

No one said much during the ride home. For days I had heard nothing but quiet expressions of sorrow and the occasional, muttered, "Everything will be ok." Now there was nothing left to say. When we arrived back at the apartment, I went to my room and tiredly sank down onto my bed. Ayesha immediately curled up next to me, starved for affection, and for a while I just lay there stroking her fur, not even thinking. Eventually Mrs. Giry came in and walked across the room to open the window. The refreshingly cool air swept in, carrying the scent of coming rain, and I felt just a little bit better. Mrs. Giry came to sit down next to me.

"Meg and I have to go to the theatre for a performance tonight," she said gently. "We'll probably be gone late. Will you be alright on your own?" I nodded. "Ok," she said. "There's some dinner in the fridge if you get hungry. Try to get some rest."

Soon she and Meg were gone, and I changed into my pajamas and crawled into bed. I had slept terribly in the hospital, and being in my own bed felt wonderfully comfortable. I lay on my side for a while, watching the rain splatter in through the open window and finally allowing thoughts of the future to enter my mind. What would I do now? I had lost everything. _No, that's not true,_ I told myself. _I have Mrs. Giry and Meg and Nadir. That's a lot to be thankful for._ But I had lost everything that I had counted on most, everything that gave me reason to live. Now I felt lost and hopelessly, desolately empty, and I had no idea what I would do next.

My eyes had slowly closed and I was drifting off to sleep when I heard a very slight scraping, shuffling sound. I knew it was probably nothing, but I opened my eyes to survey the dark room anyway. My eyes widened in fear as I saw the silhouette of a person in my room outlined by the dim light that the window let in. A hand covered my mouth before I had time to scream.

"Christine, shh, it's alright. It's me."

I had barely registered that I was hearing the voice of a dead man when he removed his hand, instead covering my mouth with his, and the sensation of kissing my husband again overwhelmed all coherent thought.

**Well? What do you think? I know this was kind of a short chapter, but I promise that the next one will be longer. Please review!**


	49. Chapter 49

**A/N: Hello, everyone! Sorry about this chapter having a bit of a wait – I just wanted to make sure that I was doing the emotion and everything else involved justice. So hopefully it turned out well. As always, thank you to everyone who reviewed! Do I even need to tell you how much I love you? Enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

The first coherent thought that my mind could form was _this can't be real._ And I knew it couldn't be. This had to be a dream or some sort of cruel, trauma-induced hallucination. As much as I wanted to believe that I was really kissing Erik, I couldn't let myself.

"Christine," he said gently as I pulled away from him.

I shook my head. "This isn't real. You're not real. You died two months ago."

It was silent for a moment before Erik reached out and touched my cheek. "Can you feel that?" I nodded. "And can you see me and hear me?" I nodded again, fighting back tears; this was so painfully real, and I dreaded waking up. "Christine," Erik breathed, his voice soft and melodious. "This is real. I'm here with you. I promise."

I shook my head fiercely, no longer able to hold back tears. "Stop saying that. You're not here. You're dead. Raoul shot you."

Erik took my hand and touched my fingers to the twisted flesh of a scar on his side. "He did shoot me. But he didn't kill me."

"Then where have you been all this time?" I cried desperately, searching for anything to remind me that this wasn't real.

"De Changy has been holding me in some warehouse on the edge of town. I've been trying to think of a way to escape unnoticed, to get you someplace safe where he wouldn't be able to find us but… I decided it couldn't wait any longer."

I was shaking with sobs now, and Erik took my hands in his, running his thumb over my wedding ring. I could feel his ring still on his finger. "You're really here?" I asked softly. "You're alive?"

"Yes," he said soothingly. "I'm here, Christine. And nothing will ever take me from you again."

Erik took me in his arms and I gladly went into his embrace, though I pulled back when I felt him flinch. "Erik, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"Not badly," he said. "It's nothing."

I ignored him and reached over to turn on the light, gasping when I saw the condition Erik was in. He was covered in blood. There were gashes, some looking older and many others still bleeding badly, and terrible bruises all over his body. That's when I was truly convinced I wasn't dreaming – I couldn't have imagined anything so terrible and frightening.

"Don't panic, Christine," Erik said, seeing my shock. "A lot of this happened before my escape and is already healing."

"How much of this blood is yours?" I asked as my eyes swept over him again, taking in the impossible amount of red that painted his skin.

"Most of it."

"But not all?"

"No."

"Ok." I didn't have time to think about what he was telling me. His escape was obviously a violent one, and I was strangely calm, knowing that whatever he had done had been necessary. If Erik felt like he needed to tell me about it, he would when he was ready. Right now, there was the more immediate matter of stopping the bleeding and making sure he would live, which didn't seem so certain at the moment.

"We'll need to clean out the gashes to make sure they can heal well and not get infected. And… and I'm sure you'll feel better if you wash off the blood."

I stood with determination to get whatever I could find out of the medicine cabinet, but Erik grabbed my hand before I could take a step. "Christine," he said gently. "Are you alright?"

I was silent for a moment. "We can talk in a little while. Just… let me take care of you first. Please."

Erik nodded in acceptance and let me go. I fumbled through the medicine cabinet for a few minutes before finding some disinfectant and a few gauze bandages. Several times I had to stop to just breathe and focus on keeping my hands from shaking. So many thoughts were running through my head at once that I couldn't make sense of any of them. Just the fact that Erik was alive was still unbelievable. And Raoul had known this whole time. Raoul had been keeping him in a warehouse, torturing him by the looks of it, all the while pretending to believe that he had rescued me and pretending to care about me.

The thought at once made me sick and filled me with fury, but I pushed Raoul from my mind. I had to stay focused on the task at hand. This was too much to take in at once, and I needed something concrete to focus on. As long as I was focused on taking care of Erik, I didn't feel like my racing mind would drive me insane.

I returned to find Erik sitting on the edge of the bathtub, washing the blood from his body the best that he could. It was everywhere. It was caked in his hair and running down his skin; it was splattered against the white porcelain of the tub. Without a word I turned on the shower and helped Erik in, letting him lean heavily against me as the blood and grime washed away. I hardly even noticed that my clothes were getting soaked. I was focused on the angry red gashes on his chest and back, the colorful bruises that blossomed everywhere. When I looked up to meet Erik's gaze, there were tears in my eyes.

"It's alright, Christine," Erik said. "It will be alright."

In response I stood up on my toes to kiss his lips gently. Erik kissed me back just as tenderly, holding me as if I could break in his grasp. Maybe I could have.

I pulled away after a moment, reminding myself to stay focus on the task I had assigned myself before I would allow myself to think about anything else. "I have some clean clothes for you," I said. "Nadir gave me some of your things."

Erik nodded slightly and I reluctantly left his embrace and climbed out of the shower, my clothes dripping as I walked across my room to the wardrobe and pulled out some of Erik's clothes. I left the clothes in the bathroom so Erik could change, and then I quickly changed myself, pulling off my soaked pajamas and putting on another pair. The bruises from my fall were starting to shrink but they were still visible, and I was glad that I had remained clothed in front of Erik. I was dreading the moment when I would have to tell him what happened.

I sat down on my bed to wait for Erik, and after a second he emerged and came to sit next to me and wrapped me in his arms. I had to stop my mind from wandering to how he would react when I told him about the baby. "I need to bandage the gashes," I mumbled into Erik's chest, though I really had no interest in moving.

"Not yet," he said gently. "Christine, talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

Tears stung my eyes when I heard the concern in his voice. How could I possibly tell him? "We can talk about it tomorrow," I said. "A lot has already happened tonight."

Erik sighed and his arms tightened protectively around me. "Christine, you're my wife. If something has happened, I need to know so I can do what I can to make it better. Please, Christine," he said pleadingly. "Just talk to me."

I stifled a sob. "Alright," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Taking a shaky breath in, I began to tell him. "About a week ago, I found out that I was pregnant." I paused for a moment. Erik said nothing and I couldn't read his expression; he knew there was more. I continued. "Then a couple of days ago, I went to see Raoul to tell him that I didn't want him in my life anymore. I wanted to get my life back together, Erik. I wanted to be able to give the baby a good life. But… but there was an accident. I fell down the stairs and I…" I could hardly force myself to say the words. "I lost the baby, Erik. I'm so sorry. I lost the baby."

I buried my head into Erik's chest and clutched desperately to him as all the grief of the last few days washed over me. Erik held me just as tightly as I held him.

"I'm so sorry, Christine," he said, his voice shaky. "I… I should have been here. I shouldn't have thought so much about how to get to you – I should have escaped the first chance I got. I'm so sorry, Christine."

For a while we just stayed there, holding each other close. Just having Erik near was an incredible comfort, but the pain was still so fresh. Erik held me as if he would never let me go, and I had no doubt that he would have stayed there and held me forever if I had asked him to.

"You're here now, Erik, and that's what matters," I said, unable to bear knowing how grief consumed him. For a moment I allowed myself to wonder what might have been different if I had known just a few days ago that Erik was alive. Would I still be carrying his child? Thinking about the baby was too painful, and I couldn't let myself get caught up in 'what ifs.' Erik was with me now, and for the time being we were safe, and that was what mattered.

But if his escape had been so sudden and violent, Raoul obviously would have noticed and immediately sent his men after Erik. They had to be hunting him down now. If Raoul had been torturing Erik for the last two months, then he wouldn't let him go easily.

"It would be dangerous for Raoul to know you're here, wouldn't it?" I asked.

Erik nodded. "Very. It would be dangerous for you if he even had reason to think that you know I'm alive. He's not just going to give up now that I'm gone."

Questions filled my mind, but Erik looked pale and exhausted, so I pushed them from my thoughts. There would be plenty of time to talk tomorrow. "No one will know that I know," I told him. "Not even Meg or Mrs. Giry. But will you stay here with me tonight? You need to rest. You look awful."

"I always look awful," Erik said with a tired half-smile, motioning to the right side of his face, and continued before I could argue. "But I think you're right. I'm not even sure if I could make it anywhere else without passing out first."

I bandaged his wounds as quickly as I could and gently laid him down in my bed. Meg and Mrs. Giry would get home late and probably go straight to bed, so they wouldn't discover him here. Flicking off the light, I climbed into bed next to my husband and curled up close to him.

"I love you, Erik," I said quietly.

"I love you, too, Christine," Erik said, gently pressing his lips to mine.

I quickly fell into an exhausted sleep with my head resting on Erik's chest, listening to the reassuring sound of his heartbeat.

**Erik's POV**

Despite my exhaustion and the comforting feeling of the warm body curled up as close to me as possible, my mind fought to keep sleep from fully taking me. I held Christine tightly to me, my lips resting against her forehead; it seemed unbelievable that I could actually be holding her again. I never wanted to let her go. I would keep her safe and somehow get her away from all of this, and then I would hold her close forever.

I had decided not to tell her about what de Changy had said to me. How could I? How could I tell her that news of her pregnancy and miscarriage had come from the man who had shot me and tortured me, who took pleasure in sharing the news with me?

The guilt I felt at this was crushingly strong. I should have been here with her the whole time. But instead I had accepted defeat and tried to plan. Instead I had let her suffer, believing me to be dead. I hadn't been there for my wife when she needed me most of all and what was worse was that she seemed to forgive me for it. She seemed to sincerely believe that the fact that I was here with her now made everything else right. I didn't deserve such kindness. I wasn't there to find out that my wife was pregnant. I wasn't there to hold her and comfort her when she lost the baby. Christine had gone through all of that thinking I was dead.

Silently, I swore that I would spend the rest of my life making it up to her.

But what would we do? How could I get her away from here, take her someplace where we wouldn't have to be constantly looking over our shoulders, worrying about the boy finding us? We couldn't spend our whole lives running. No. We would have to end this here.

My head was growing too clouded to think, and sleep finally felt imminent. I kissed Christine gently and she sighed, the corners of her lips turning up in a faint smile. She looked completely content, completely trusting as she lay curled up next to me, and again I felt guilt at knowing what the past two months had done to her.

"I love you, Christine," I whispered. "I'll figure out how to fix everything. And then I swear I'll never leave you again."

**What do you think? Are you happy that this chapter is a long one? I'm just happy that Erik's back and I can write cute E/C scenes again! Please review! You know you want to after this chapter! **


	50. Chapter 50

**A/N: Hello, my lovely readers! Holy cow, can you believe that we've made it to chapter 50? I sure can't! I really didn't think that this story was going to be so long, and we're not even particularly close to the end yet! As always, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed that last chapter, and to everyone who has reviewed the story so far. Without your continued support and encouragement, who knows where this story would be? Most likely, it would not be at chapter 50. So reward yourselves for making this story happen (I would recommend a reward involving chocolate) and enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

The bright sunlight that streamed into the room woke me, and it took a moment for me to recall the night before and make sense of the feeling of another's arms wrapped around me. I smiled slightly at the sheer joy of having Erik with me, letting myself forget everything else for a little while. Erik was still asleep and I was careful not to wake him, knowing how much he needed to rest. For a while, I was content to just lie there next to him, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest and memorizing every detail of him. The thought of those long months of believing he was dead brought tears to my eyes; the grief was still so sharp and fresh, even though Erik was lying beside me now. And Raoul had known the whole time! I hated Raoul, I decided. I hated him for what he had put me through, and I hated him even more for what he had done to Erik.

Eventually, I slid carefully out of bed so I wouldn't disturb Erik and slipped out of the room, quickly closing the door behind me. Meg stood in the kitchen, filling a travel mug with coffee, and she looked up when my door clicked shut.

"Oh, good," she said. "I was hoping you'd get up before I had to leave."

"Where are you going?"

"Carlotta wasn't happy with how the show went last night," Meg cringed. "So she's making us rehearse today. Mother is already at the theatre."

"That's too bad," I said, carefully hiding my relief that they would be gone today.

"Yeah," Meg agreed. "I hate having to leave you alone all day, too. Will you be alright?"

"I'll be fine," I told her. "Don't worry about me, Meg."

"You look a lot better than you did yesterday," Meg commented. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did. It was hard to sleep at the hospital, and it felt good to be back in my own bed." That wasn't a lie – it just wasn't the entire truth.

Meg nodded in acceptance. "Well, if you want some company, remember that Nadir said you could call him and he'd come over. And if you feel up to it, you could even come over to the theatre and watch rehearsals."

"Thanks," I said. "I might have to do that. Just don't be worried about me, ok?"

"Mother and I will bring home something for dinner tonight, ok?" Meg said, already halfway out the door.

I listened for a minute as her footsteps disappeared before I raided the kitchen to make breakfast. Erik looked painfully thin and I had worried about it as I fell asleep, and the more I thought about it the more sense it made that he had probably eaten very little in the last two months. So I quickly made everything that I could find, put the plates full of food on a tray, and carried it into my room.

Erik stirred when I entered, and I set the tray on the bedside table and sat down next to him. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me down so I was lying beside him, and I contentedly snuggled into the embrace, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck.

"Good morning," he said, his words muffled by my hair.

I smiled. Just the sound of his voice seemed miraculous. "Good morning. I made you breakfast – you look like you've barely eaten at all in the last two months."

"I haven't," Erik said. "It smells wonderful, Christine. Thank you."

I shifted slightly so Erik could sit up and eat, but I remained cuddled to him as closely as possible. Finally, I voiced the question that had been running through my head all night.

"Erik," I said quietly. "Why is Raoul doing this? What have we ever done to him?"

"It's nothing that you've done, angel," Erik said gently. "He feels like I've cheated his family, and then to add insult to injury I took you from him."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "How could you have cheated his family?"

"Remember when I told you about my past? The family I worked for who hunted me down, who murdered your father –"

"The de Changys," I finished.

Erik nodded. "But it's gone beyond that, now. I was never supposed to just leave the business – I knew too much about their family and how they operated. They wanted me dead for that. But now… Maybe the boy wants to prove his power by capturing me when his father couldn't. Maybe he just wants to prove his power over me. And I think that part of him is jealous – he wants you, but I have you, and he's used to getting what he wants."

For a moment we just sat silently as this sunk in. "I don't want him," I said quietly. "I only want you." This earned me a small smile, but I continued before Erik could say anything. "The day that I went to tell Raoul that I didn't want him in my life, I was just going to tell him that I couldn't forgive him for killing you, despite the fact that he thought he was doing the right thing. But he kept saying that there had to be a reason that I would choose to tell him then, and eventually he forced me to tell him that I was pregnant. And I realized then that he had never really believed that he was saving me by shooting you. He knew that I was safe with you; he was just jealous. We fought, and… everyone says that my fall was an accident. That's what he told them, but it's not true. He…" I met Erik's eyes, and the anguish I saw there matched mine. "He pushed me, Erik. He made me fall."

Erik held me tightly in his arms, and I could almost feel the grief and fury radiating from him. "I'm so sorry, Christine," was all he said, his voice strangled.

"I just want to get away from him," I said shakily. "I want to be safe with you again, somewhere far away where Raoul can't find us and hurt us anymore."

Erik shook his head. "We can't run," he said, though his voice indicated that that was what he wanted to do, too. "He's too determined. He'll hunt us done endlessly just to prove that we can't beat him. We can't spend all of our lives running from him. We have to stand and fight – it's the only way we'll ever have peace again."

I only nodded my head against Erik's chest, pressed to his heart. _Raoul will pay,_ I thought to myself. _Somehow, he'll pay. And we'll take our lives back from him._

**Erik's POV**

We stayed in Christine's bed for most of the morning and afternoon, just talking and enjoying being in each other's arms again. I must have said "I love you" a thousand times, and I could have said it a thousand more. It was as if nothing mattered except Christine knowing that I loved her and would never leave her again. I would severely punish that boy for making her go through this. I wanted to kill him for what he had done to her. I wanted to track him down and kill him at that very moment, but I had to be careful unless I wanted to cause even more trouble for us.

"What are you thinking about?" Christine asked gently, pressing tiny kisses up and down my neck.

"You should never have gotten involved in this, and de Changy will suffer for hurting you like he has," I said quietly. "It's me he wants to hurt – it shouldn't be you. I'm going to keep you safe. And when this is all over, I'll make up for the pain you've gone through."

"Just knowing you're alive is enough, Erik," Christine told me. "You shouldn't feel guilty. None of this is your fault; you have nothing to make up for."

I pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "I don't deserve you," I said, and she silenced me, bringing her lips to mine.

"Don't say that," she said. "You more than anyone deserve kindness and mercy and love." That was the end of the conversation.

"I can't stay here," I said eventually, though I had been avoiding bringing up the matter.

"I know," Christine said softly, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. "But where will you go? Will you be alright?"

"I'll be alright. For now, I think it would be best to go back to my home below the theatre," I said, and Christine gave me a puzzled look.

"Meg found the passage behind the mirror in my dressing room," she explained. "She said that it had been walled-off. She told Raoul about it, too."

"Well, then no one will suspect that I'm there. There's more than one way to get in and out, my dear."

"And I'll come to the theatre often," Christine said. "I'll never let on that I know anything, but I should be able to come up with plenty of excuses to be there, and I'll get to see you then."

I had to smile a little at her optimism. "And I'll figure out how to end this," I said. "Then I'm taking you away again so I won't have to share you with anyone. It will just be you and me."

Christine sighed. "That sounds wonderful, Erik. We'll figure out how to get through this. I know we will."

**What do you think? I probably won't be able to update next week because I'll be in NYC, but reviews always help updates come faster! And I was thinking, what better way to celebrate 50 chapters than by getting to 300 reviews? We're almost there, and I think it would be so great if we could do it. So hit that little blue button (or the little gray button if you're not reading this on a computer)!**


	51. Chapter 51

**A/N: Hello, my lovely readers! Sorry about the delay in updating – I was in New York for a week, and then I got back and have been working and taking care of my dog who had to have back surgery, so there's been a lot going on. As usual, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, and enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

My eyes were growing heavy as I lay comfortably in Erik's arms, and I looked up at him when I felt him stir. "Christine," he said gently. "I should go."

I turned to look out the window and noticed that the light was starting to fade. "Ok," I said softly, trying to remind myself why he couldn't stay here. "I'll go to the theatre with you – I can tell Meg that I wanted to catch the end of rehearsals. But are you sure you'll be alright on your own? You were nearly dead just last night, and maybe you could stay here for just one more night –"

"Christine," Erik quieted me, sighing. "Please don't tempt me. You know that if I didn't have to leave you, I wouldn't. But it's just too risky."

"I know," I sighed sadly. "I've just missed you so much, and even though I know that it's for the best, I don't want to leave you."

Erik shifted so he could kiss my lips. "This will be over soon, I promise. I love you."

I nodded. "I love you, too," I said, pressing my lips to his again.

Just before we left, I went to my wardrobe and got his mask from where I had kept it. "Nadir gave me this, too," I said softly, handing it to Erik. He was silent as he put the mask on, and I was surprised to find how strange it was to see him wearing it – I had gotten so used to his face, and the mask seemed so stoic and lifeless.

"Thank you," Erik said quietly. "I won't wear it all the time – I know you don't like it."

I nodded, and we left without another word. I walked to the theatre as I always did, keeping my pace slow and my expression tired and solemn. Knowing that Raoul's goons could be watching me was unnerving, but I was comforted by the feeling of Erik's eyes on me. The late afternoon sun made the buildings cast long, deep shadows, and it hadn't been difficult for Erik to disappear into them. He was still near me, though, and his presence made me feel much better.

I entered the theatre normally, knowing that Erik would slip in unnoticed some other way. There was little activity in the halls, and soon I could feel Erik's presence with me again. I looked around, carefully searching the corners and shadows, but I could see nothing.

"Christine… Christine…"

A chill went up my spine as his voice caressed me, and a slight smile played at my lips. I had nearly forgotten what his voice could do to me.

"Christine!" My reverie was broken and I turned to see Meg hurrying over to me. "I'm so glad you decided to come – I was worried about you just staying all by yourself in the apartment all day."

I smiled. "I've been fine, Meg, but I thought it would be nice to get out for a little while."

"That's good," Meg said. "I've gotta run – I'm on soon. You can go sit and watch if you want to, or you could probably watch from backstage, too." She turned to leave but quickly stopped and turned back to me. "Oh, and the managers wanted to see you the next time you came in. I don't know why. But if you're feeling up to it you could go find out." With that, Meg was gone.

What could Andre and Firmin want to see me about? Figuring that Mrs. Giry had asked them to think about letting me rejoin the chorus, I decided to go talk to them. I wanted to ask Erik what he thought but decided against it – even if it looked like there was no one with me, I couldn't be caught talking to someone I was supposed to think was dead. I could feel him with me, though, as I walked through the halls and knocked on the door to the managers' office.

"Ah, Miss Daae!" Andre greeted as he let me into the office. "You look well. We're happy to see you, aren't we, Firmin?"

Firmin nodded from the desk where he sat. "It is good to see you, Miss Daae," he agreed. "Mrs. Giry mentioned that you are in poor health; not to poor, I hope?"

"Getting better," I said, thankful that Mrs. Giry had not elaborated on my situation any further.

"That's certainly good to hear," Andre said, pulling up a chair and motioning for me to sit. It was clear that they wanted something, but I was starting to wonder if they would ever get to the point when Firmin cleared his throat.

"Miss Daae," he began. "We realize that this past year has been trying for you."

"And we understand if you don't want to do anything that could invite more stress into your life," Andre said.

"But we were wondering if you would be interested in doing a solo performance late this fall."

"You can have full control over the pieces that you sing, and you can do only a couple performances if you'd like, maybe even just one night. You can have your old dressing room back, too – no one's used it since you've been away."

I was silent for a moment as Andre and Firmin watched me intently. "It _has_ been a very difficult year," I said honestly. "But I've also been wanting to sing again. Can I think about it for a little while?"

"Of course, Miss Daae," Andre said quickly. "Just let us know what you decide."

I thanked them and stood to leave. I needed to talk to Erik about this.

**Erik's POV**

I was already waiting when Christine got to her dressing room. She quickly closed the door and gasped slightly when she turned to see me already there. "I didn't expect you to get here so fast," she laughed softly.

"You forget, my dear, that I _am_ the Opera Ghost," I chuckled.

"Well," she said. "What do you think? You don't think this could be Raoul trying to trap us, do you?"

I shook my head. "I think that the managers just see an opportunity to make money – I don't think de Changy would bribe them into doing this without being fairly sure that you know I'm alive. So it's your choice. Of course I would love for you to perform again – I would love to teach you again – but you have been through a lot and it's understandable if you don't feel ready."

"It would give me an excuse to come here and be with you," Christine pointed out. "Besides, I have missed singing. You would really teach me again?"

"Of course I would," I told her, smiling a little at the prospect of having lessons again.

"And…" Christine hesitated. "It might be a good way to expose Raoul." My surprise at this comment must have been evident, because she continued cautiously. "On stage, I mean, with hundreds of people watching. He wouldn't be able to do anything without there being hundreds of witnesses."

"You're right about that," I said carefully. "But Christine, you would still be putting yourself at risk. You don't need to get involved in this more than you already are. The conflict is between the boy and me, and I don't want you to put yourself in danger. Even with hundreds of witnesses, something could still go wrong. He could find you after the show and hurt you. I don't want to take that chance, Christine – I could never ask you to put yourself in that position."

"You're not asking me," Christine said. "I'm volunteering. This is between Raoul and me, too, now. I want to end this as much as you do, and this might be the best chance we have. If you confront him alone, he could have his men surrounding you and easily gain the upper hand. He could kill you. And how would you convince him to leave us alone? He's not going to negotiate. This may not be a perfect plan, but we can work on it. Please, Erik," she said softly. "I need to do something to help."

I pulled Christine into my arms, holding her protectively to me. "You are helping," I said gently. "You helped keep me alive and safe last night. And you helped keep me alive for the last two months – I thought of nothing but you and that gave me the strength to get back to you. But I can see that you've already made up your mind. We'll discuss the plan further, but if you want to sing, then I think you should."

"Thank you, Erik," Christine said, then added quietly, "I want to sing for you again."

**What do you think? Reviews will get the next chapter written quicker! **


	52. Chapter 52

**A/N: Hello, everyone! Aren't you proud of me for updating so quickly? Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed – I'm so glad to see that people are excited about this story. Enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

It wasn't long before Erik and I parted – I knew that Meg would be watching for me, and even though Erik would never have admitted it, he needed to rest and save his strength. Before I left, though, I promised him I would return the next day. The idea of resuming lessons was made even more appealing by knowing that this would likely be our only time together for a while, and it made being away from him more bearable. There was some comfort in knowing that our lessons would be like they were before when things were at least safe, even if they weren't always simple.

I was jolted from my thoughts when I heard Raoul's voice around the corner, low and furious. I stopped in my tracks and cautiously peered around the corner before ducking back so I could listen without being seen. Raoul was talking on his cell phone, and though he was trying to hide it, I could tell he was seething.

"What do you mean you can't find him?" he hissed. "He's near death! How hard can he be to find? Just follow the damn trail of blood or something! Have you been keeping an eye on Christine?" There was a long pause, and I held my breath. "Well I don't care what you think. Keep watching her. If he makes contact with anyone, it will be Christine."

"Who's contacting me, Raoul?" I asked innocently, coming around the corner.

Raoul immediately snapped his phone shut. "You shouldn't eavesdrop," he said warningly.

I shrugged. "I was just walking. So, who's contacting me?"

Raoul briefly looked relieved, thinking that I hadn't overheard the rest of the conversation. "I was going to have someone call to check in on you," he lied smoothly. "But it looks like you're doing much better, so now I don't have to have anyone call."

"How nice of you to push me down the stairs and then have someone _else_ call to make sure I'm ok," I drawled.

"Christine, don't be like that," Raoul said, reaching out to me.

I quickly pulled away from his touch. "You don't even try to deny it," I said incredulously. "How else should I be? You've taken _everything_ from me, Raoul!" I didn't have to fake the pain that filled my voice as I thought of everything he had done, both to me and to Erik.

Raoul sighed. "When will you understand that I have only ever done what's best for you?"

I shook my head. "You've never cared about what's best for me, Raoul. If you did, you wouldn't have killed Erik." I walked away quickly, hoping that rehearsals would be ending and Meg would be ready to leave soon. Raoul followed me.

"The man was a murderer and a psychopath, Christine," he said. "Did you forget that he kidnapped you? Killing that monster _was_ what was best for you."

I very nearly turned and slapped Raoul, clenching my fists and walking faster to restrain myself. "Don't you dare call him that. Erik was a better man than you'll ever be."

"You've let everyone believe that your fall was just an accident, haven't you?" Raoul asked.

"I'll tell them when I'm ready to talk about it – it's just too painful right now. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Don't you think that maybe you haven't told anyone the whole story because part of you believes what I'm saying now? Part of you is glad to be rid of that monster. Part of you is glad that I did what I did, and you agree that it was right. Part of you is thankful – that's why you don't want people to know the whole truth. You don't want what you believe is right to seem wrong."

"Go to hell."

"Christine, what has gotten into you?" Raoul asked, his voice so sweet and gentle that I wanted to hit him even more. "How can you say things like that? Remember before he kidnapped you? Don't you remember how happy we were? Tell me you don't want things to be like that again."

I stopped walking and turned to face Raoul. "I wasn't happy then, Raoul – not really. I tried. I wanted to be happy with you, but I only really wanted Erik. I was just too scared to admit it to myself. But when I was with him all those months, I overcame that fear. You knew that I wasn't in danger, and you killed him anyway. I don't know if you ever actually had feelings for me, but I know that you certainly don't now. So don't act like you care – you're not fooling me. Just stay away from me, Raoul. You've already done enough damage."

Without a moment of hesitation, I turned and walked away. Raoul said nothing and didn't try to follow me, but I knew that this wasn't over – he wouldn't just give up and go away. There was nothing that I could say to him that would make him give up now. He had gone mad with power and jealousy; he was determined to win me from Erik, even though I was supposed to think Erik was dead. I shuddered, knowing that Raoul would stop at nothing, but took comfort in the fact that Erik was alive and, currently, safe. And now, we had our chance to stop Raoul, to expose him for the spoiled, lying bastard that he was.

I was going to enjoy that immensely.

**Meg's POV**

Christine looked livid when she came and found me backstage, but I could tell she was trying to hide it, so I made no comment.

"Give me a minute to change and I'll be ready to go," I told her. "Mother said not to wait for her but she'd be home soon after us."

I changed quickly while Christine waited, and we stepped out into the cool evening and walked back to the apartment. Christine was silent as we walked.

"Christine, are you ok?" I asked after a minute. "You seem really… stressed."

"I ran into Raoul a little earlier," she admitted. "I was just thinking about everything he's done, and it makes me angry that I haven't been able to do anything about it."

I sighed, feeling sorry for her. "I can't imagine how hard all of this has been for you, Christine," I told her. "You've been through so much. But sometimes things happen and there's nothing we can do. It's hard, but sometimes you just have to try to move on."

"You don't understand," Christine said softly, her voice sad.

"You're right," I said. "I don't understand. I just want you to feel ok again."

"I know," she said. "And I'm sorry for being like this. I think things will be better soon."

"Christine, you have every right to be frustrated," I told her gently. "Mother and I understand that you're grieving for Erik… and for the baby. But I'm glad you think that things are going to get better. I just want you to be happy."

We walked the rest of the way home in silence, and not long after we got home, Mother arrived with carryout and we sat down for dinner.

"Christine, I almost forgot," I said. "Did you talk to the managers today?"

Christine nodded. "They wanted to know if I would do a solo performance in a couple of months," she said.

"What did you tell them?" Mother asked.

"I told them I would think about it," Christine said. "I've decided that I would like to do it, though, so I'll go back and talk to them about it more tomorrow."

Mother and I exchanged a brief glance, and I could see the concern in her eyes. "Are you sure you feel ready?" Mother asked. "It would be a lot of work and a lot of stress."

"It's not like I'm dying and need to save my strength," Christine reasoned. "I know what I've been through, but physically I feel fine now. It will be tiring, but no more tiring than it's ever been."

"Have you thought about the publicity that you'll get?" Mother asked. "We've been lucky that things have been this quiet. Once it comes out that you're performing again, reporters will want to know all about your disappearance. They will pitilessly try to dig into your personal life. Are you sure you're ready to handle that?"

Christine was silent for a moment as she considered Mother's words. "I'll think of something to tell everyone," she said with calm decision. "I'll make it seem like I just went away for a while and that the kidnapping was a misunderstanding. The press is just something that I'll have to deal with. I'm sure that there will be plenty of rumors, but… but I'll be able to handle it. I want to do this," she said determinedly. "I need to do this – for Erik."

The emotion in her voice as she said this broke my heart. We were silent for a moment before Mother spoke again. "If you're sure, Christine, then we'll happily support you," she said.

"I am sure," Christine said. "It will be a sort of closure, I guess. I just need to sing for Erik again."

**What do you think? Review for another fast update!**


	53. Chapter 53

**A/N: Hello, my lovely readers! I am so sorry for the delay in updating (I feel like I've said that almost every chapter)! Work and preparing to leave for university have made my life kind of hectic. As always, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I'm so glad that you all are enjoying this story. Without further ado, here's the next chapter!**

**Erik's POV**

Christine arrived bright and early at the theatre the next morning, just as she had promised. She headed for the managers' office first, and I followed her, moving silently through passageways that only I knew of. There, I could listen to what was said completely unseen.

"Good morning, Miss Daae," the managers greeted Christine when she knocked on the office door. "Have you had a chance to think about our proposal?"

"I have thought about it," Christine said, "and I've decided that I would like to perform."

The managers' smiles grew wide as they no doubt thought of the large amount of money they would make off of this performance. They quickly congratulated Christine on her choice, saying what a triumph her return to the stage would be.

Christine smiled politely. "Thank you," she said. "I would like to call a press conference, though, to make the announcement myself – I'm sure that we can expect a great many rumors, and I want to dispel what I can right away so they don't interfere with preparation for the performance." I smiled slightly, proud of how well Christine was already handling this; maybe she _could_ make this plan go smoothly.

"Of course, Miss Daae," Andre said quickly. "We'll plan on tomorrow afternoon."

Christine nodded her appreciation. "Thank you. I plan on working in my dressing room today if that's alright, selecting music to sing, and I would really appreciate not being interrupted by anyone."

Again, the managers were eager to comply. "Of course, Miss Daae. We'll see to it that no one disturbs you."

Christine left the office a few minutes later, and I was waiting for her by the time she got to her dressing room, closing and locking the door behind her. "You definitely know how to make demands, my dear," I chuckled.

Christine laughed. "Well, it helps that they were already drooling over the money I'll make them." Still giggling, she crossed the room to embrace me, standing on the tips of her toes to press a kiss to my lips. "You look a lot better today," she said.

"I feel a lot better. And you look beautiful, as always," I told her, and she smiled at me, her entire face lighting up. Seeing her happy made me feel infinitely better; just two nights ago she had looked so drained and frail. Now she looked even more radiant than the Christine I remembered.

"How did you get in here?" she asked.

I smiled. "Allow me to show you, my dear." Christine looked confused as I slid away the mirror and led her to the wall that blocked off the passage. "This is really just another door," I explained, pulling a magnet from my pocket and sliding it along the edge of the wall until there was a barely audible click. The wall slid aside just enough for someone to get through, and after a moment it slid seamlessly back into place. I handed the magnet to Christine. "In case you ever need to get down there," I told her.

"Could we go now?" she asked. "Please, Erik? It's been so long since I saw your home down there."

I agreed, and Christine slid the magnet along the edge of the wall just as I had. The wall slid aside and I took her hand, once again leading her into the darkness.

**Christine's POV**

Erik led me down to his home, and I had to smile slightly as I thought of the last time he had taken me down these dark halls. I had been naïve about so many things, but even then I knew how much I needed him. I was so scared by the darkness and mystery that surrounded him despite how long I had known him; I was scared by my own feelings. How different would things have been if I hadn't removed his mask the morning, or if I hadn't cowered in terror of him? I shook the thoughts from my mind as we approached Erik's home – all of that was in the past, and what mattered was that I was here with him now.

Erik's home was just as I remembered it, and the familiarity was comforting. Erik sat down at the piano and I stood just behind him. I reached to remove Erik's mask and he flinched slightly when it came off, and I knew that he must have been thinking about that day, too.

"I'm sorry for that day, Erik," I said softly, pressing a kiss to his marred cheek. "I'm sorry for hurting you."

Erik turned and pulled me close to him. "I know," he said. "That feels like ages ago, doesn't it?"

"We've come a long way," I agreed. "I love you, Erik."

In answer, Erik captured my lips in a slow, languid kiss that removed all other thought from my mind. Despite everything we were dealing with, for now there were only the two of us in the world, and that was a wonderful feeling. We pulled apart slightly, and for a quiet, peaceful moment, neither of us moved.

"Erik," I said softly. "We don't have to work on music today – there will be plenty of time tomorrow to choose music for the performance."

Erik smiled a little. "Just what are you suggesting?"

I pressed my lips to his in a teasingly short kiss and quickly stepped back out of his reach, smiling at the disappointment on his face. "Of course, you were very recently near death," I said. "So if you're not feeling well enough yet, I would understand."

Erik's eyes flashed playfully. "You underestimate me, my dear."

Before I could react, Erik caught me up in his arms and carried me into the bedroom, laying me down gently on the bed. I giggled and pulled him to me so I could kiss him. Our clothes were quickly cast off and Erik paused, pulling back to look at me. The bruises from my fall were nearly gone, but I knew by the look in Erik's eyes that he saw them as clearly as if they were new. He opened his mouth to speak but I stopped him.

"Please don't apologize again, Erik," I told him, gently tracing the scars and cuts on his chest with my fingertips. "It isn't your fault."

Erik nodded, though I could tell that he still didn't believe this entirely. "Are you sure you're… ready for this?" he asked, running his fingers across my stomach.

"I'm completely sure," I said firmly. "I've missed you, Erik. I've missed my husband. I want nothing more than to be with you again."

With that, Erik lowered his head to kiss me, and no more words but breathless 'I love you's were uttered.

It was exceedingly difficult, later that day, to leave Erik. I would have been more than happy to have remained dozing off peacefully in his embrace, but it was getting late, and Mrs. Giry and Meg would wonder where I was if I stayed for much longer. Erik took me back up to my dressing room, where we reluctantly parted after I promised several times to return at the same time the following morning.

"We _will _actually have to select some pieces for you to sing tomorrow," Erik said with a chuckle.

I shook my head. "I already know what I want to sing," I said, and continued when Erik looked at me questioningly. "I want to sing your music," I told him, watching as his smile grew.

Erik kissed me on the forehead. "I'll see you in the morning, then. Sleep well, my love."

And even though I hated having to be apart from Erik and see him in secret like this, I had to admit to myself as I walked down the dim streets towards home, looking out at the city lights, I was happy.

**What do you think? Unfortunately, this story will be coming to an end soon (I estimate roughly ten chapters), but that also means that hopefully I'll get it finished before I leave for university so you all won't have to deal with even more massively long waits between chapters. Review to get the next chapter faster – the final chapters are going to be action-packed!**


	54. Chapter 54

**A/N: Hello, my dear readers! As always, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed – I know I thank you all every chapter, but I can never thank you enough for your continued support. Enjoy the chapter!**

**Erik's POV**

Christine's lesson passed quickly the next morning, her voice soaring to perfection with every note she sang. I had expected her to be nervous about answering the press's questions, but if she was nervous, she certainly didn't show it. I told her that I would be watching the whole time, and she smiled sweetly at me.

"Don't worry about me," she said. "I can handle this."

Still, though, I was unable to keep myself from worrying later as I watched her prepare to confront the small army that waited to interrogate her. And still Christine betrayed nothing but the calm confidence of someone who has nothing to hide. She sat at a table with Andre and Firmin; a sea of reporters stretched out in front of them. When, in a warm, clear voice, Christine announced that she would be performing again later in the season, the buzz that filled the room was loud enough that it was several minutes before Christine could continue and be heard.

"I'm sure that there will be many rumors regarding my return to the stage, and I would like to clear up as many of these rumors as I can in the hopes that they will not interfere with the preparations for the show, so I will now take any questions you have."

There was a slight scramble to be heard first before one man stood, his voice ringing out above the general murmur. "Is it true that you were kidnapped last winter? Police reports claimed there was insufficient evidence to determine anything."

"That is not true," Christine said. "I went away for a while to focus on my music and improving my voice with an old friend and mentor. My departure was more dramatic than I expected, but it has certainly worked to my advantage as far as publicity goes." She smiled and the reporters chuckled, clearly put at ease by her relaxed manner. "I was very secluded when I was away, purposely so, and I did not even hear about the kidnapping rumors until I got back to the city. I'm afraid they were just started by a few overly concerned but well-meaning people."

When Christine was finished, another man spoke. "Miss Daae, is it true that you were recently hospitalized?"

I cringed at this painful invasion of privacy, but Christine's calm façade never faltered. "Yes," she said calmly. "I had a bad fall, and they kept me overnight just to make sure I was alright. It was nothing too serious, though – as you can see, I'm quite fine now."

"What about your relationship with Raoul de Changy? Are you picking things up where you were before you went away?"

"Mr. de Changy remains a large part of my life. I would prefer to keep any answer beyond that personal – having such a public relationship before was difficult for me, and I am ready to keep my private affairs private."

"What made you want to return to the stage? Why now?"

"I love what I do," Christine answered simply. "Last year, I was inexperienced and the pressure was getting to me. Now, after my break, I feel more prepared and I'm ready to let my passion for music show again." 

Christine answered a few more questions just as flawlessly before announcing that she would take one final question before handing things over to Andre and Firmin. All eyes fell on a young woman who stood.

"You have an extraordinary talent, Miss Daae, and I'm sure that everyone wants to know who taught you to sing so incredibly."

Christine spoke softly with very real emotion in her voice. "Unfortunately, my teacher very recently passed away. I would prefer not to divulge his name for the sake of his loved ones' privacy, but he was an amazing teacher, an incredibly gifted musician, and a great man. In fact, I will be singing some of his original compositions. I hope to truly honor his memory with my return to the stage."

It was respectfully silent for a moment before Andre and Firmin took over, announcing details of the performance. Christine sank back in her chair with a small, relieved smile that I knew was meant for me.

**Christine's POV**

The press conference worked just as planned in squelching the rumors before they even started. It's always easy to make something believable when it's close to the truth. Mrs. Giry and Meg would never have revealed my secrets, and Raoul seemed to sense that if he cared to add anything to my story, I would add the part where he killed an unarmed man. Everyone already believed me – even if he defended himself, some people would have doubted.

Other than that, Raoul did not seem suspicious of me. I tried to avoid him as much as possible, and when I did meet him I kept our conversations brief. He seemed to be trying to convince me that he was once again the friendly boy I had met last year. I was polite to him for the sake of the plan, but I wanted nothing more than to never see him again.

Days turned into weeks and the performance grew closer. Erik praised me highly in out lessons, assuring me that everything would go smoothly. He had managed to gain the upper hand and was now watching Raoul's men as they tried to find him, misleading them once in a while for his own amusement. I could only roll my eyes and shake my head when he told me this, though really I was just happy that he was healthy and up to no good again.

Our lessons were usually the only time we had together, and I treasured that time more and more with each passing day. It almost felt like we were starting over; we talked endlessly about our dreams for the future and what we would do when we didn't need to hide anymore.

Things changed when the performance was about a week away. Erik was waiting for me in my dressing room, as always. I gave him a quick kiss when I entered, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to him, his lips lingering on mine.

"You've worked so hard," he said softly. "Why don't we take a break from our lessons today?"

I smiled. "And do what? What could possibly be more important that achieving perfection with you music?"

"You're already perfect," Erik muttered against my lips.

I laughed and returned his kiss eagerly. "Are you saying that as my teacher or as my husband?"

"Both. Now, no more questions."

It was far too easy to get caught up in Erik's embrace and forget the world around me. I didn't hear the door open; it was Meg's voice that brought me sharply back to reality.

"Christine, you forgot your… oh… oh my God…"

**What do you think? Sorry about the short chapter. I know I've said that for the past several chapters, but they really should start to get longer again really soon. Please review – you know how much I love reviews!**


	55. Chapter 55

**A/N: Hello, my lovely readers! Thanks for waiting so patiently for this chapter. Everything's starting to calm down a little here, so updates should be coming more frequently for the next few weeks. And, as always, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! Enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

In a flash, I had pulled Meg into the room, looking out into the hall to find with relief that it was completely deserted, before closing and locking the door. Meg stared at Erik, her face pale and her mouth hanging open slightly. Then she looked back at me, and I spoke quietly but forcefully before she could launch into the long list of barely-coherent questions that I could practically see forming in her mind.

"Don't say anything. I'll explain everything, but you have to listen carefully and do exactly what I tell you. No one can know about Erik – it's a matter of life and death. You have to act like you don't know. You'll be in danger, too, if someone finds out that you know Erik's alive." I quickly explained what Raoul had done as Meg listened with wide eyes, her gaze occasionally flickering over my shoulder to Erik. Even after I finished, it was a minute before she spoke.

"I understand why you didn't tell me," she said slowly. "I'm sorry I just barged in like I did – I was clearly interrupting something, anyway."

Erik coughed, and I blushed and tried to discreetly straighten my clothes.

"But… wow," Meg continued. "I just can't believe that… that you're alive and that Raoul's done all this… I'm so sorry I ever trusted him, Christine. If I hadn't helped him find you in the first place, none of this would have happened."

"It's alright, Meg," I told her. "No one could have guessed that all this would happen. Even after he shot Erik, I would never have thought that Raoul was capable of being so cruel."

"But now you're going to expose what he really did to everyone."

Erik nodded. "That's the plan. But you still need to be careful, Meg. It's of vital importance that he doesn't think you or Christine know I'm alive. You can't even give him reason to suspect."

Meg nodded solemnly. "You're not going to tell anyone, though? Not Nadir, or even Mother? They could help make everything with the performance go smoothly."

"We had talked about it," I told Meg. "We decided not tell anyone – the more people who know Erik is alive, the greater the danger is. But now that you know anyway," I turned to Erik, "maybe things have changed."

Erik was thoughtful for a moment. "Perhaps," he said hesitantly. "It would be helpful to have others making sure everything goes as it should."

"And since Meg already knows, would it really add that much risk telling the two other people we trust most?" I added.

"I'll let the two of you talk about it," Meg said, turning to leave. "In the meantime, I swear that no one would ever guess that I know about any of this."

"I know, Meg," I said. "Thank you." With that, she was gone. I re-locked the door and turned back to Erik. "What do you think?"

"It could be worth the risk," Erik said.

I nodded. "And in a way, it's a huge relief for me now that Meg knows. We've had to hide so much; at least we don't have to hide from her anymore."

"We know we can trust the completely," Erik said. "So I think we've decided."

I smiled and gladly went into Erik's embrace. "I think this will make the next few weeks at least a little easier."

Erik pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "I'm sorry, my love. I know how hard it's been for you to keep secrets from the people you care about like this."

"Sometimes we just do what we must, hoping that things will get better," I said simply. "Now, I can call Mrs. Giry and ask if we can invite Nadir over for dinner tonight. We can tell them then."

I reached for my phone, but the sensation of Erik's lips on my neck made me completely forget what I was doing. "And then back to our previous plans?" he asked.

I giggled, letting myself enjoy the feeling of his arms around me for a moment before playfully pushing him away. "Of course," I said. "But I really should make the phone call first."

**Meg's POV  
><strong>

I arrived home before Christine, anxious to hear what she and Erik had decided (assuming that they had talked at all after I left, which seemed doubtful judging by the state I had found them in). My anticipation grew when Mother told me that Nadir was coming over for dinner that night, and it was difficult to hide my excitement.

"Why is he coming?" I asked casually. "Is there some sort of occasion?"

Mother shook her head. "Christine just suggested it earlier today. She said she hadn't seen him for a while and thought it would be nice to have him over."

It seemed like forever that I sat, absent-mindedly stroking Ayesha, waiting for Christine to come home. When she did come home, she quickly went into her room, saying that she wanted to get cleaned up before Nadir arrived. She emerged again a while later, quickly closing the door behind her. I met her eyes and she nodded subtly, and I gave her a reassuring smile.

Nadir arrived a short time later as Mother finished cooking and Christine and I set the table. We welcomed him in, and in return he greeted us with the bear hugs we had started to expect since getting to know him better. I fought back a blush – Nadir was no older than Erik and quite attractive in my opinion – and was mildly surprised by the knowing glance Christine shot me.

We sat down to eat, and my stomach was in knots as I watched Christine wring her hands nervously. I held my breath as she cleared her throat.

"I'm actually expecting someone else for dinner, as well," she said.

Mother raised an eyebrow. "It would have been nice to have been told of this in advance," she admonished. "Do we know this person? You didn't invite that de Changy boy, did you? He may talk sweet, Christine, but boys like him are nothing but trouble."

"It's not Raoul," Christine said, sniggering a little at the absurdity of the idea. "Believe me, I know just how much trouble he is. You do know our guest, though." Christine looked between Mother and Nadir. "Both of you do."

Mother opened her mouth, but there was no time to speak before the door to Christine's room opened, and both Mother and Nadir's eyes widened in astonishment. Christine smiled warmly and walked over to her husband, fondly wrapping her arms around his waist.

"We have something we need to explain to you," she said simply.

Nearly half an hour later, everyone sat around the table, having recovered enough to eat a little. I had to smile when I caught Erik and Christine innocently holding hands under the table, content simply to be together. Ayesha sat loyally at Erik's feet and affectionately butted her head against his leg, happy to see her old master. Mother and Nadir still peppered Erik and Christine with questions, even after the previous half hour of explanation.

"What made you escape when you did?" Nadir asked Erik. "Why not at some point sooner or later? Why then?"

"I was trying to plan some way to get away unnoticed for a while and get Christine safely away, but…" Erik looked down. "De Changy told me that Christine was in the hospital, and then nothing else mattered – I just had to see her."

"And Meg, you knew about this?" Mother asked me, though there was no harshness or accusation in the question.

I shook my head. "Only since this morning," I said. "I kind of found out on accident." I shot Christine a pointed, teasing look, and she turned red and looked away.

"Like we said, though," Erik continued. "This is a very fragile, dangerous situation. Avoid discussing this, even when you think you're alone – even here."

Christine nodded in agreement. "We only did this here tonight because Erik knew that Raoul's men are watching elsewhere right now. They have been watching me and the apartment, though, so it's best just never to speak or act like you know any of this."

"Well, Erik," Nadir said, reaching over to clap him on the back. "You've come out of sticky situations before, and you know that we're all here to help if you need us. We're just glad to have you back."

Christine leaned over to rest her head against Erik's shoulder, their hands still entwined under the table.

"Thank you," Erik said. "We're going to get through this just fine. I know it."

**Thoughts? The next few chapters are what everyone's been waiting for! Please review!**


	56. Chapter 56

**A/N: Hello, everyone! I'm glad to be updating again so soon! As usual, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed – you all are amazing! Enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

The weeks after that flew by faster than I had thought possible. My days were a flurry of preparations for the show, and most nights I would return to the apartment dead-tired. Some evenings, Erik would come to the apartment, too, and we would call Nadir to come over and everyone would sit around and visit until I inevitably fell asleep, slumped against Erik. There were even a few nights that I got to spend with Erik at his home, since I no longer needed to make up an excuse to be gone overnight. Those were the nights that I was most thankful we had told Mrs. Giry, Meg, and Nadir – if we hadn't told them, those rare nights together would not have been possible at all.

When I woke on the day of the performance, the first thing I noticed was the chill in the air, despite the fact that I was inside. I pulled the blankets up to my chin and lay there for several minutes before I was able to convince myself to get up. I had to smile a little when I went to the window and saw the growing layer of snow on the ground – the first snow of the year. Quickly showering and dressing, I was soon on my way to the theatre. The streets were slick with ice and slush, and several times I nearly fell, but this did nothing to dampen my spirits. I was excited about the snow, I was excited for tonight, and most of all I was excited to finally be free to live my life with Erik. Tonight was the night that would change everything, and I was confident in our plan to expose Raoul.

Tonight would bring an end to all those months of secrecy and sadness.

I hurried out of the snow and into the warm theatre, and, as usual, Erik was waiting for me in my dressing room. He kissed me soundly, seeming to feel the same excited anticipation that I did. We warmed up my voice and ran through my songs, but Erik made me spend most of the day resting. I spent much of the late afternoon, then, in hair and makeup, and warming up with the orchestra. As the performance grew closer, I put on my gown and sat down at the vanity in my dressing room to put the final touches on my hair and makeup. The rare minutes of silence and solitude were both calming and unnerving, and the silence was only broken by a sudden knock on the door.

"Come in," I called, glancing up into the mirror to see Raoul entering behind me, carrying a vase of pink flowers. He met my eyes in the reflection and smiled friendlily.

"Good luck tonight," he said. "Or should I say break a leg?"

"Thank you, Raoul," I said, forcing a smile. "The flowers are beautiful."

"Aren't they?" he said, setting the vase down next to me on the vanity. "Rather hard to find so late in the season. Rather pricey. But it was no problem."

I inwardly cringed at his arrogance, but continued to smile pleasantly at him. We were silent for a moment, and his eyes were drawn to my hand as the light glinted off my wedding ring.

"Aren't you ever going to take that thing off?" he asked, the friendly façade briefly faltering.

"No," I said simply. Raoul eyed me thoughtfully for a moment.

"You know, Christine," he continued. "I hope that after tonight, we can put everything that's happened behind us once and for all. Honor you monster one last time tonight, if you must, and then let yourself be free of him. I want things to go back to the way they were before you were ever kidnapped."

"I don't think things can ever be that way again, Raoul," I told him. "Too much has happened since then. But I do hope that we can set things right."

Raoul seemed satisfied with this answer, at least for now. "I'll leave you to finish getting ready, then," he said, leaning forward to kiss me before I could protest. He left without another word, and I could immediately feel Erik watching. I got up to lock the door, and when I turned back around he was there, practically radiating fury.

"I'm glad we won't have to deal with that boy anymore after tonight," he muttered as I went to embrace him.

I nodded. "I hate that he seems to feel like… like he's entitled to me or something. Like I belong to him." I stood on my tiptoes to trail my lips along Erik's jaw. "You know I'm yours and yours alone."

Erik relaxed a little at my words. "I hope you realize that I'm not sharing you with anyone for quite a while after tonight."

I sighed, tightening my arms around him. "I'm fine with that," I said quietly. We stood there like that for a minute, just holding each other and enjoying the peace. "I love you, Erik," I whispered. "I'll always love you."

"And I love you, too, my angel," Erik said. "I should let you finish getting ready – the show starts soon."

Erik began to pull away, but before he could I captured his lips and kissed him deeply. He smiled at me when we pulled apart.

"You'll do wonderfully tonight, Christine. I'll be watching." Erik lifted my hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to it, his lips brushing my wedding ring. And with that promise, he, too, was gone.

It was only then that I say, sitting delicately on my vanity beside Raoul's ostentatious vase of flowers, a single red rose with a black ribbon tied around the stem.

**Meg's POV**

The snow had stopped falling by the time everyone was shuffling into the theatre for the performance, but the air was still bitingly cold and I was glad to be inside where it was warm. Mother and I quickly found our seats – Christine had gotten us seats in the center of the very front row. Nadir sat with us, but one seat next to me was still empty.

…Until Raoul sat in it, that is. I tried to smile when I saw him, but I think it came out as more of a grimace.

"Hey, Meg," he said casually. "We haven't talked in a while. How's everything with you?"

"Fine," I said, trying to think of a way to get out of making conversation with him. "Nothing much exciting has happened, except for Christine's performance, of course."

"You don't think that anything would happen to… interrupt the performance tonight, do you?" Raoul asked mysteriously.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, furrowing my brown. "What could possibly happen?"

Raoul shrugged noncommittally. "Oh, I don't know," he said. "But Christine hasn't been acting strange or secretive in any way?"

I shook my head. "Of course not."

Raoul seemed to accept my answers without suspicion, but it worried me that he had asked at all. There was a slightly uncomfortable pause, and I took the moment to look around me. The audience had filed in and was mostly seated, and it looked to be a full house. I was suddenly very nervous for Christine.

"Isn't that the man who was Erik's friend?" Raoul asked, gesturing to Nadir. "What on earth is he doing here?"

"He's our friend, now," I said a little sharply.

Raoul held up his hands defensively. "Why so tightly-strung tonight, Meg?" he asked. "We used to talk all the time. You're the one who helped me find Christine after she was kidnapped, remember? What's with the touchiness?"

_I'm trying to protect my best friend and her husband from you,_ I thought angrily. I was saved from having to reply, though, as the lights in the theatre dimmed. The audience hushed, and then applauded as the curtain rose on Christine.

**Well, what do you think? Is anyone excited to see how the performance goes? I know I'm really excited to write the next couple of chapters, even though we're getting close to the end. Please review!**


	57. Chapter 57

**A/N: Hello, my lovely readers! Aren't you proud of me for updating so soon again? As always, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed. You guys are amazing, and I'm so thankful for all the support! Enjoy the chapter!**

**Erik's POV**

Backstage was in a minor state of chaos just before the performance began, and it was easy to disappear and watch unseen. Christine appeared, looking angelic in her long pale pink gown with her dark curls carefully arranged. She calmly took her place onstage, but I could tell by the way that she was clenching and unclenching her hands that she was nervous.

"Christine, Christine," I sang softly, throwing my voice so that she would hear me.

Christine smiled slightly, visibly relaxing as she ran her thumb over the wedding ring that still adorned her finger. Then, with only seconds until the curtain lifted, she turned and looked directly at me, smiling radiantly. I was more than a little surprised that she knew exactly where I stood, but I smiled reassuringly back at her. Satisfied, Christine turned back so she would be facing the audience, and she took a deep breath as the curtain began to rise.

I had never heard Christine sing as beautifully as she did that night.

Of course she was technically perfect, as she often was; it was the passion with which she sang, though, that made her stunning beyond belief. She poured the entirety of her heart and soul into every note, and she unfailingly left members of the audience wiping tears from their eyes. In the front row, the Girys beamed up at Christine proudly, and Nadir applauded with more enthusiasm than I had ever seen him show before. Raoul applauded as hard as anyone else, but the vacancy of his eyes made it clear that he did not truly appreciate the greatness that Christine was reaching. After each song, Christine would discreetly glance over at me for my approval, and all I could do was smile, hoping she could see how incredibly proud of her I was.

Eventually, the orchestra began to play a familiar melody, and Christine closed her eyes, letting herself be swept away by the music I had written for her. Then, softly and sweetly, she began to sing.

"_Who knows when love begins?_

_ Who knows what makes it start?_

_ One day it's simply there,_

_ Alive inside your heart._"

Christine sang contemplatively, and I could tell that her mind was drifting back over everything that had happened over the past year – the choices we had both made, the love that we had eventually come to share, our lives both then and now. She was enchanting, and when she came to a pause before the chorus, the audience seemed to collectively hold its breath.

"_Love never dies._

_ Love never falters._

_ Once it has spoken,_

_ Love is yours._

_ Love never fades._

_ Love never alters._

_ Hearts may get broken,_

_ Love endures…_

_ Hearts may get broken,_

_ Love endures._"

As Christine continued singing, she seemed to express all of the pain and desperation of the last few months, but more than that, she expressed the hope that we both felt. Every ounce of sorrow and joy flowed in her voice. I hadn't thought that I could be any more proud of her that night, but my pride grew with every note she sang now; I knew that she was singing for me. One look at the audience told me that they felt every bit of emotion she poured out. All except de Changy, who sat with a sour expression on his face. I almost wanted to laugh – he, too, knew she was singing for me, even though she supposedly believed me to be long dead.

The music swelled as the song reached the final chorus, and Christine's voice rose with joy and passion that made my soul soar.

"_Love never dies!_

_ Love will continue!_

_ Love keeps on beating_

_ When you're gone!_

_ Love never dies_

_ Once it is in you!_

_ Life may be fleeting,_

_ Love lives on…_

_ Life may be fleeting,_

_ Love lives on._"

**Christine's POV**

The audience was on their feet in applause before I had even had time to take a breath. I smiled and bowed, and even though there were hundreds of pairs of eyes on me, I felt Erik's gaze as if he was the only one watching me. When the applause finally died down, I began to speak calmly and clearly.

"As I'm sure most of you know, the last year has been a very interesting one for me. It's been a year of change. I'm sure you've heard a lot about my 'sudden rise to stardom' and how the stress of it became too much for me, so I went away to focus on my music and my voice. However, what you don't know about is how I fell in love." I looked out into the audience and saw Raoul watching me intently, waiting for what I would say next. I looked away, refusing to let his stare affect me.

"I fell in love with a wonderful man," I continued. "His gift for music was incredibly – he was a genius. He taught me how to use my voice. He was also the composer of the aria I just sang." I had to pause here for the appreciative applause before I could continue speaking. "But he was so much more than that. He was a good man who loved me more than anything else in the world. He was willing to die for me." I shot a sharp look at Raoul, and was surprised to see him shrink back a little. "It may surprise you to hear this," I went on. "But I loved him so much that I married him."

A slight murmur arose from the audience and people began to look around them, wondering who I could be talking about. I waited for the noise to quiet a little before I continued.

"There's no use looking around trying to spot my husband here tonight, though. You see, the day after we married, my husband was mercilessly shot." My voice grew cold as I pointed down in front of me at Raoul. "And Mr. de Changy is the one who shot him." More surprised murmurs, much louder this time, came from the audience. Raoul furiously sprang up, and before anyone could stop him, he had climbed over the pit and stood on stage beside me.

"That's not true!" he shouted indignantly. "The man was a murderer! He had kidnapped Christine – that's why she was gone for all those months without a word to anyone! I was protecting her!"

"You know, Raoul," I said. "That story would be much more believable if you had actually killed him. But you didn't. You kept him near death and tortured him for months for your own sick amusement, all the while making me believe he was dead."

Raoul paled slightly and a horrified look crossed his face. But shock was quickly replaced with rage, and he violently seized my wrist. "You lying –"

"You would do well to let go of my wife, Mr. de Changy," came a deadly calm voice from behind him. Raoul's eyes widened and he obediently dropped my wrist. I hurried to stand with Erik, who put a protective arm around me; even though Raoul seemed so weak and frightened without his army of goons to protect him, there was still something that made me uneasy. "Everything Christine has said is true," Erik continued. "This boy shot me and kept me from Christine for months. I was barely alive by the time I managed to escape and make it back to her, and I've got the scars to prove it."

"We've had to hide for months just to keep safe," I added. By this time, the audience was in a minor uproar. Many people were standing, trying to get a better look. All the color had drained from Raoul's face.

"They're lying!" he continued to shout desperately. "You believe them? He's a murderer! He kidnapped Christine!

"Give it up, Raoul," I told him. "All we want is for you to leave us be. Let us live our lives peacefully. Just give it up now while all we're holding against you is kidnapping and attempted murder. Or would you like us to share more with the hundreds of witnesses we have?" I asked, gesturing to the audience, who still watched the scene intently through their confused conversations.

"All we want is to be able to live in peace," Erik said amiably. "We can forget about all of this right now."

Raoul shook his head, muttering to himself, "He can't win, he can't win." His eyes briefly flickered up from the floor to me, and suddenly all I could do was with that he would just leave. I wanted to let myself feel the fear that had been in the back of my mind since the performance began. I wanted to bury my face in Erik's chest and let him take care of everything. But I knew that I couldn't. This was my fight, too – not just Erik's. Pushing aside the sense of foreboding that was pounding in my head, I took a step away from Erik and slowly approached Raoul.

"Raoul," I said firmly. "Listen to me. It's over. Just let us go, and we can all move on. Hurt pride can only excuse so much, and what you've done crossed that line long ago. This is beyond having gone too far, and it's time to put an end to this madness."

Raoul shook his head vaguely again before looking up at me. "No," he said quietly. "No, this isn't over yet."

In a flash he had grabbed me. I could feel something pressing hard into the side of my head, and there were screams and gasps from the audience. But I didn't really comprehend what was happening until I saw the fear that was plain on Erik's face. He was frozen in place, seeming unwilling to risk even the tiniest movement. Raoul briefly removed the gun from my head to wave it around, clearing a path for himself.

"No," he repeated. "This is not over yet. There's still plenty more to come."

And then he was dragging me into the darkness.

**Just a bit of a cliff-hanger there, huh? What do you think? By the way, the song that she sings is from Love Never Dies, in case you didn't guess. Just a few chapters left! Please review!**


	58. Chapter 58

**A/N: Hello, dearest readers! Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! I didn't want to keep you waiting too long, so here's the next chapter. Enjoy!**

**Meg's POV**

I was sitting on the edge of my seat as I watched the scene unfold, silently praying that Christine and Erik knew what they were doing. Raoul looked like he was going mad. He was pale and restless as they exposed the things he had done. His eyes darted about, and he kept shaking his head and muttering, unable to accept that he had been outdone – unable to accept the humiliation of admitting his wrongdoings and letting Erik and Christine go.

I never expected him to pull a gun on Christine.

And then in a flash, he had pulled her off stage and they were gone. The audience was in an uproar, wondering what was going on and fearing for their own safety as well as Christine's. Nadir immediately dialed the police, and I followed Mother up onto the stage as she spoke hurriedly with Erik, who was pale and clearly shaken. For the first time, it looked like he didn't know what to do.

"I'm going after them," he said. "I can't let him hurt Christine."

"Erik, it's dangerous," Mother insisted. "It's not Christine he wants to harm – it's you. Going after them could just make things worse, and you know that it would kill Christine if anything happened to you trying to save her."

"I'll make sure nothing happens to me, then," Erik said, already striding off in the direction they had gone. Mother and I had to run to keep up with him. Terrified bystanders pointed in the direction Raoul had taken Christine before Erik could even bark out the question. Even through his fear, Erik practically radiated fury.

"Erik, are you sure about this?" Mother asked breathlessly as we chased after him. "I know you're worried, but the police will be here soon, and I think it would be safer for everyone –"

Erik abruptly halted and whirled around to face Mother. "You're damn right I'm worried. Right now my wife is being held at gunpoint by a very dangerous man, and it's my fault. I'm not exactly concerned about my own well-being." Pausing, Erik looked at the door we had come to. "He's taken her up to the roof, and he wants me to follow. He wants to be confronted. I'm well aware that following him is dangerous, but right now all that matters is that Christine is safe. So send the police up when they get here. Until then, we'll just hope that the boy doesn't decide to actually kill me this time."

With that, Erik had disappeared through the door, taking the stairs that led up to the roof two at a time. Mother turned to me with a look of worry just as Nadir came running up.

"What's happened?" he asked quickly. "Where's Erik?"

"He's gone after them," Mother said gravely.

"What can we do?" I asked. "I hate just having to wait while my best friend is being held with a gun to her head, not knowing what's going to happen."

Mother shook her head and drew me into her arms. "All we can do is wait for the police," she said. "And pray that nothing happens."

**Christine's POV**

Raoul dragged me up onto the roof, into the icy cold night. I slid and nearly fell, but Raoul continued to pull me along, heedless of the sheet of ice that covered the rooftop. He stopped when we were near the edge and turned to face the door we had come through, roughly pulling me close to him again and replacing the gun to my head. I shivered; the air was bitterly cold, and the soaked hem of my gown clung to my legs.

"Raoul, why are you doing this?" I asked desperately. "How will more senseless violence solve anything?"

"It's quite simple actually, Christine," Raoul hissed. "With Erik out of my way, I'll have everything I'm after. There will be no threat to my family name. And you and I could go away –"

"What on earth makes you think that I want anything to do with you?" I cried incredulously. "After all that you've put me through! And of course nothing says 'I love you' like a gun to the head."

Raoul shrugged indifferently. "A minor setback. Things like that can be easily overcome. You seem to have no problem overlooking your history with the deformed madman who's responsible for the death of you father, and who kidnapped you and kept you from your loved ones for months."

"Erik isn't responsible for my father's murder – your family is," I snapped. "And I chose to stay with him. He's never put me in danger or hurt the people I care about. Unlike you."

Before Raoul had time to respond, Erik came rushing onto the roof. He approached slowing with his hands in the air, his eyes locked on me. I tried to look unafraid but hissed in pain as Raoul shoved the gun harder against the side of my head.

"One step closer and I pull the trigger," he shouted. Erik stopped and spoke carefully.

"Don't do this, de Changy," he said. "It's me that you want. You know that you don't want to hurt her. You don't want innocent blood on your hands."

"She's not innocent," Raoul said. "She's as guilty in this as you are because you made her that way. You got her involved. If I kill her, the blood will be on your hands, not mine."

"That's not true," I said quickly, unable to bear the crushing sorrow in Erik's eyes. "I got myself involved. I knew perfectly well what I was getting into and I don't regret it."

"Shut up," Raoul hissed, pointing the gun at Erik. "Or I shoot him."

"So shoot me, then," Erik said. "You've done it before. You were too cowardly to kill me then, and you don't want to kill me now. Because if you kill me, it's over. You'll have no one to hunt down, no one to fight – no one to blame for your hurt ego. This is all some sort of sick game to you, but you can't play it without me."

"Oh yeah?" Raoul said, still shakily holding the gun at Erik. "You think I won't kill you?"

Erik calmly shook his head. "You'd rather watch me suffer. You want to wound me the way I've wounded your family's pride by escaping and evading you all these years. And you want to wound me like I wounded your pride by taking Christine from you. All of this has only been a matter of jealousy and wounded ego, and it's long past time to put an end to it."

"Please, Raoul," I said, my voice quiet and trembling slightly. "We won't tell anyone about your family's activities. You could probably still have time to run before the police get here. We can forget that any of this happened as long as you're willing to forget the past, too."

Raoul shook his head, shoving the gun back against my temple when Erik took as step forward. "It's not that easy," he said. "You can't just win."

"No one is winning or losing here, Raoul," I told him. "But Erik is right. If you shoot me or him, everyone loses. Letting this end peacefully won't make you weak. It would be a really good thing. Everyone could start over. Everyone wins." Sirens were drawing near, and Raoul was beginning to look frantic.

"You're not winning this one," he hissed. In the same instant that he aimed and fired at Erik, I wrenched myself from his grasp, jerking his arm and causing the bullet to shoot harmlessly into the air.

Raoul tried to grab me again, and as I met his eyes, I was suddenly back at the top of the staircase in his apartment, facing that same furious, desperate look. But I wouldn't let him hurt me, not this time. I was stronger now, and I would fight. With every ounce of strength I had in me, I jerked free from him and pushed him back before hurrying into Erik's waiting arms. I vaguely heard the police hurrying onto the roof and drawing their guns, but all I could focus on was what I saw when I turned back to face Raoul.

He had stepped back and lost his footing on the ice, and though his arms flailed for something to grasp, there was nothing but the cold night air around him. For a moment, time seemed to slow and I met Raoul's gaze; his eyes were still full of bitterness and hatred. Everything was silent.

And then he was gone.

The police immediately rushed to the edge of the roof. In the street below us, people screamed and cars slammed on their brakes to avoid the sudden obstruction in the road. I moved to look, too, but Erik held me back.

"Don't look, Christine," he said gently. "You don't want to see that."

I paused and then nodded, happy to fall back into Erik's warm embrace. Part of me was sad, pitying Raoul for the unhappy life he had led and the unhappy end he had met. But at least we were safe. I didn't care what else happened anymore. As long as I had Erik, nothing else seemed to matter much.

**What do you think? Personally, I'm glad to finally be done with the fop. Just a couple chapters left – can we get to 400 reviews by the end of the story?**


	59. Chapter 59

**A/N: Hello, my dear readers! Sorry that this is coming a little later than I expected – I got a little distracted (and by that I mean I watched an unhealthy amount, possibly 4 seasons, of Doctor Who). Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

I stifled a yawn and shifted uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair where I had been seated for what felt like an eternity but couldn't have been more than a few hours. Erik and I had been taken to the police station for questioning, and Erik was speaking with them now. He had assured me that everything would be ok – that neither of us would end up with criminal charges. Hundreds of people had seen Raoul pull me off the stage with a gun to my head, and the police had seen that Raoul's fall had been an accident. Still, though, I knew that Erik's past wasn't exactly lawful, and I couldn't help but worry for him a little. Finally, Erik emerged, looking tired but greatly relieved. I stood and met him, looking at him questioningly.

"It's over," he said quietly. "We're free to go. They've determined that de Changy's death really was an accident. If any charges are pressed, they will be against the de Changy family, not us."

The news was almost too good to believe after all these months of heartache. I looked up at Erik hopefully, wrapping my arms around him. "So, that's it? We're finally free?"

Erik grinned down at me, his arms tightening around my waist. "Yes, my love," he said softly. "We're free."

I smiled and sighed tiredly into Erik's chest. If felt like a massive weight had been crushing me, suffocating me, and it had finally been lifted from my shoulders; it felt wonderful. With one arm still around my waist, Erik and I walked out of the police station onto the dark street. He had given me his suit coat to wear over my performance gown, though it didn't shield me completely from the cold night and I was happy to be pressed close to his warm body. Snow had started to fall gently again, making the streets glow under the streetlamps.

"We should call Nadir and the Girys – let them know what's going on," Erik said.

I shook my head. "Do you have any idea how late it is? I'm sure they're all asleep. I called them earlier to say that things were looking fine. We're all going to meet for brunch tomorrow."

"Good," Erik said, squeezing me closer to his side. "I'm ready to go home for the night anyway, and I wasn't particularly looking forward to the long phone conversations."

I grinned up at him. "I'm ready to go home, too. And then tomorrow can we leave? Can we go back to the mansion, at least for a little while?"

"Of course," Erik replied, punctuating his words with a kiss to my forehead. "I'd like nothing more."

I slept late the next morning, enjoying the feel of being languidly sprawled out in the silky sheets, wrapped in my husband's arms. It was like waking up the morning after our wedding again – nothing to do, not a care in the world, just enjoying each other. It was almost like we were starting over. Of course things would never be that way again – not really. That innocence was gone – we had experienced too much. I knew this, but it did very little to dampen the blissful mood I had woken up in. I smiled, bringing my hand up to caress Erik's marred cheek as he gently nuzzled my neck.

"Good morning, my love," he murmured.

I giggled lightly as Erik reached a ticklish spot at my throat. "Good morning. I have to say, this is a very pleasant way to wake up."

"Get used to it," Erik chuckled. "Because we have every morning for the rest of our lives now."

Yawning, I shifted lazily in Erik's arms. "You should have woken me earlier. I'm sure it's late, and we'll have to rush to meet everyone on time."

"It's not that late," Erik said cheekily, pulling me back down to him when I tried to sit up. "We have plenty of time. Besides, you were sound asleep – I'm not sure if a parade could have woken you up."

I sighed and playfully met Erik's lips. "All the same, I should really shower and dress. I need to get up, Erik." Erik released me and grumbled something incoherent, and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Did you say you're going to take a shower?" he said after a second, his eyes flashing teasingly. "A shower sounds good."

"You're incorrigible!" I laughed as I climbed out of bed.

Erik shrugged and followed me. "Just part of my charm, my dear."

**Meg's POV**

I had to smile when Erik and Christine burst laughingly into the café flushed and out of breath, and almost an hour late, though no one had honestly expected them to be on time. Christine shook snow out of her hair as Erik helped her shrug off her parka, and they were still in their breathless fit of laughter when they pulled up their chairs to the table.

"We can assume that you received good news last night, then," Nadir drawled. "No criminal charges?"

"Not one," Erik grinned. "All of this madness is finally over."

I breathed a sigh of relief and reached over to give Christine's hand a squeeze. Mother spent the entire night telling me that everything would be alright, but it was an entirely different thing to hear it said for certain.

"We're so happy for you both," Mother told them. "You certainly deserve some peace."

"We were so scared when Raoul took you, Christine," I said. "We thought you'd both go and get yourselves killed. Then it was such a relief when we knew you were safe, but the chance that you could be in trouble because of all this seemed so unfair."

"I was afraid of that, too," Christine said. She squeezed my hand back. "Thank you for caring. Thank you all so much for being here through all this."

"So what are your plans?" Mother asked. "Now that you're free to live your lives, what will you do?"

"For now we're going back out of the city," Erik said. "I think we both agree that we need to get away from everything for a while – start our life together properly."

"But of course you all are welcome to stay with us whenever you want," Christine added.

"Well, thank you, that's very gracious of you," Nadir said. "But I get the feeling that the two of you would rather be alone for a while to… catch up."

The withering glare that Erik shot Nadir seemed to confirm his theory, and Nadir chuckled and sipped his coffee, unaffected. Christine giggled too and tried to hide her smile when Erik turned his gaze to her, but she just ended up laughing harder. Against his will, the corners of Erik's mouth turned upward as well and soon he was laughing along with Christine. I caught an incredulous look on Mother's face, and I realized that I wasn't the only one who was amazed to see them so… well, happy.

"Do you think you'll come back to the city eventually, though?" I asked.

"Of course," Christine said, finally able to control her laughter. "Nothing could keep me from performing for Erik for long. Maybe we'll get an apartment in the city in time for next season."

"An apartment?" Mother asked. "You wouldn't go back to your current home, Erik?"

Erik smiled and shook his head. "No, I reckon it's about time to live above ground," he said. "I've got a new life and, for the first time, real security. 

Christine grinned up at him, and her smile earned her a peck on the cheek. "A new life," she said. "A new start. Just think of it."

I smiled at her. "I think it's wonderful."

**What do you think? Only one chapter and an epilogue left, so I should get this finished before I leave for school next week. Please review! Let's see if we can get to 400!**


	60. Chapter 60

**A/N: Hello, my lovely readers! Here it is: the second to last installment! I really can't believe what this story has become. I never would have thought that I would be working on it so long or loving it so much. And of course I would never have guessed that I would be getting such fantastic support! Over 400 reviews! And of course many of you have added it to your favorites and follows, too. So thank you all so much! Enjoy the chapter!**

**Christine's POV**

Despite all the good-natured teasing we endured, Erik and I were truly looking forward to the solitude of the mansion outside of the city after all the months of separation. There wasn't much that we wanted to take with us beyond Ayesha, a few articles of clothing, and the things that Nadir had brought me when I had first returned to the city, so it didn't take long to pack. The next morning, the five of us piled into two cars – the Giry's and Nadir's – and heading up a road that I hadn't traveled in a very long time. The trip was long but I hardly noticed; I felt like a child with my now pressed to the window and eyes wide, excited to return to the place that I had long considered my home.

Several times I caught Erik watching me, affection clear in his eyes. I would smile and he would smile back at me. We didn't need to say anything – I knew that he was just as happy as I was to be going home. I kept my hand in his the entire trip.

When at last the intricate stone structure of the house came into view, it was all I could do to wait until the car had stopped moving before opening the door and bursting out onto the snow-covered lawn with a squeal of delight. Everything was just as beautifully, wonderfully perfect as I remembered. In fact, with the snow covering the ground, it looked just as it did when Erik first brought me here and I tried to run, only to turn back and have him find me huddled by the door, nearly frozen in the heavy snow.

I didn't realize that Erik had come to stand beside me until I felt his hand on my shoulder. "Welcome home, Christine," he said softly.

"Home," I whispered, treasuring the word. "I'm so glad to be home. And under better circumstances than the last time you brought me here, fortunately."

Erik chuckled and our quiet moment was interrupted by the sound of car doors opening and closing. "It's beautiful," Meg breathed. "I don't remember it being so beautiful here. But then again, I guess I wasn't really focused on the good things last time, was I?"

"But we're back now," I said. "We're moving forward, and that's what is most important."

"Perhaps we could move this conversation inside?" Mrs. Giry suggested, wrapping her coat tighter around herself in the cold air.

Everyone quickly agreed and hurried into the house, though it wasn't much warmer inside, as no one had turned on the heat or lit a fire for months. Erik lit a fire in the sitting room and the house began to warm before he went back outside to get the rest of our things from the cars. For a moment, all I could do was stand in the front hall, remembering the last time I had stood there. I shook the nightmarish memory from my head quickly, though.

The day passed nicely. It was better than nice, in fact. I was home and in the company of the people who mattered the most to me. The normally large, empty-feeling house was full of liveliness. And while admittedly it needed a good cleaning – the months that it had sat unoccupied had certainly taken their toll – the mansion felt like more of a home to me than it had ever before. The Girys and Nadir stayed for dinner (we had picked up a few things to stock the kitchen with on the trip up) and then politely refused our invitation to spend the night rather than driving all the way back into the city.

"The roads are clear and the weather is fine," Nadir reasoned. "We shouldn't get back too late, so there's no reason to trouble you two by staying the night."

"And of course we don't want to intrude more than we already have," Mrs. Giry added. "I think that you two have more than earned a rest."

"Thanks," I sighed tiredly, hugging them both. Meg was quiet as I wrapped her in my arms. "I'm not that far away," I told her comfortingly. "And we can talk on the phone and email all the time."

Meg nodded. "I'll still miss you terribly, though."

I held her a little tighter. "I know. I'll miss you, too. But at least you know where I am this time."

Meg laughed. "Yeah, there's that," she said. "And I can come visit you properly, without endangering anyone's life."

More hugs and goodbyes were exchanged until at last they were gone. For a while, I just sat on the front steps, listening to them drive away until it was silent.

**Erik's POV**

Christine was completely lost in thought – she didn't seem to notice me until I draped a blanket over her shoulders.

"Thanks," she said appreciatively as I sat down next to her on the step. Without seeming to think about it, she scooted closer to me and rested her head on my shoulder, and I wrapped my arm around her.

"It's so peaceful," she said quietly after we had sat in silence for a moment. "I honestly never thought that I would have this kind of peace in my life again. Everything's just so… perfect."

I looked at her, finding a far-off look on her face as she stared off into the night. "Why is that?" I asked. "Why would you think that your life would never be peaceful again?"

"Well," she said. "When I thought I lost you, I didn't doubt that I could still live a peaceful life. But it wouldn't have been like this – it wouldn't have been a happy kind of peace. And then with Raoul…" she trailed off and was silent for a minute as she chose her words. "I always knew that you would do everything you could to protect me and get me away from him. I never once doubted that. But I was afraid that something would go wrong – that you would die or end up facing police charges or something. I could hardly even let myself hope that things would actually end. I could hardly hope that we would ever find peace again."

"But here we are."

Christine smiled. "Here we are. It wasn't easy, but we made it."

"Since when has anything ever been easy for us?" I chuckled.

Christine laughed too – that beautiful, enchanting laugh that I love so much. "Fair point. And of course I don't think that everything will be easy from here on out, just because of what we've already endured. But I'm ready. I'm ready to fight whatever comes our way because now I know just what we'd be losing."

I kissed the top of Christine's head, not knowing what to say. This wonderful, fantastic, brilliant woman never ceased to amaze me. Her faith in me and what I could do and who I could be had always astounded me. And after everything we had been through, I couldn't imagine that she could be any stronger or braver or loving. Yet here she was, constantly continuing to surprise me.

"I love you, Christine," I told her softly, and she tilted her head up to reach my lips.

"I love you, too," she whispered. "Always have, and always will. You won't be able to get rid of me; I will never stop loving you. And don't say that you don't deserve me, because you do. We deserve each other, Erik. And if it takes a lifetime to prove that to you, that's ok. Because we have forever."

**Just the epilogue left now! I'll try to get that up in the next couple of days, but definitely sometime in the next week before I move. Please review!**


	61. Epilogue

**A/N: Hello my fantastically wonderful readers! Unfortunately, this is also goodbye, at least for now. This story has finally reached its end after over a year of work, 60 chapters, over 400 reviews, and over 50,000 views. I can't even begin to express how incredible that is. I never in a million years would have guessed that this story would become what it is now, and I am so grateful for all of my amazing readers and reviewers. Thank you so much!**

**As for what comes next for me, I honestly hope to continue my fanfiction career. I'd love to pick up working on my other in-progress story, **_**Darkness, Darkness**_**, or maybe write something new. That being said, I have no idea how much time I will have to write once classes start next week, and even then I'd like to focus more on the novel I'm attempting to write. So we'll just have to wait and see what happens. In the meantime, feel free to PM me with suggestions and whatnot – I love hearing from you all!**

**Again, thank you so much to everyone who has read and/or reviewed this story. I'd love to hear from you one last time to see what you think of the end. I'd also love to thank each and every one of you individually, but I think this author's note is long enough as it is. So instead I'm dedicating this final installment to you, though you all deserve much more for the fantastic support you've given me.**

**And, for one final time, enjoy the chapter!**

_**~Six years later~**_

"After six highly successful seasons performing with the theatre, Christine Daae has announced that she will not be returning next season, also confirming the rumors that she is expecting her first child…"

- NY Times

**Christine's POV**

I felt an odd kind of relief that was both sad and happy as I entered my dressing room after my final performance. It was strange knowing that I would not be coming back for who knows how long, but I couldn't help but be excited when I thought of the reason for the break. Smiling, I placed a hand on my barely-showing stomach. Words could not describe how brilliantly happy Erik and I were when we found out. Our official announcement was very well-received as well; it seemed like the entire world was happy for us.

Quickly shedding my costume and wiping off my makeup, I sat down at my vanity and picked up the red rose that was unfailingly there after every performance, pressing the soft petals to my nose and enjoying the sweet scent. Then I gently placed it back down, smoothing the silky black ribbon that was tied around the stem and sighing a little. Part of me was already anxious to return to the stage, but I was far more excited for the new adventure we were about to embark on.

I jumped slightly when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I always expected Erik to appear out of nowhere, but it never failed to startle me when he did. He chuckled at my surprise, and I playfully smacked his hand.

"Someday you won't be able to sneak up on me," I told him.

Erik pressed a quick kiss to my lips. "I wasn't even trying to sneak up. It's not my fault that you're always too lost in thought to be attentive to what's going on around you."

"But I have so many good things to think about," I teasingly argued. "Just now, for instance, I was thinking about you."

"Really?" Erik said, managing to sound intrigued and seductive at the same time. "What about me?"

"I don't think you deserve to know after sneaking up on me like that," I said with mock severity. "How did you even get in here without me noticing?"

Erik just rolled his eyes. "I wasn't trying to scare you," he repeated. "You just need to pay more attention, which is a lesson that I'm helping you learn. Therefore, I should get to know what you were thinking."

I stuck out my tongue as Erik smirked triumphantly. "Fine. I was thinking about what a great dad you're going to make."

Erik's expression softened. "Well, at least one of us believes that."

"It's true," I insisted. "You're the best husband in the world, and you're going to be the best father, too."

"If I'm ever any of that, it's because you made me that way," he said gently, kissing my temple.

Our quiet moment was interrupted by a knock on the door as we were joined by Nadir and the Girys. I had to smile when I saw Meg and Nadir come in hand-in-hand. They had been seeing each other for years, and I had just gotten it out of Erik that Nadir had started to carry a ring with him, waiting for the right moment.

Meg rushed over to hug me. "You were fantastic tonight," she gushed. "Way to go out with a bang!"

I laughed at her enthusiasm. "Thank you, Meg. Now, would anyone be interested in going out for dessert? I'm craving cheesecake like crazy!"

My suggestion was very quickly agreed to, and soon we were on our way, walking down the brightly-lit streets of New York City. Erik kept my hand firmly in his, absent-mindedly running his thumb over my wedding ring. I looked up and smiled at him, and he pulled me closer. And, resting my head on Erik's chest as we walked on with the people we loved most and the future bright ahead of us, all I could do was keep on smiling. Everything just seemed to have fallen into place.

For once, everything was beautiful.

FIN.


End file.
